


Oddest of Summers

by Kearatheshadow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Agender Pidge | Katie Holt, Alternate Universe - College/University, Body Horror, Dirty Talk, Dom/sub, Friends With Benefits, Light BDSM, Minor Violence, Other, Praise Kink, Slight horror, Werewolves, Wolf Instincts, submissive Hunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-04 07:35:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 23,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18339092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kearatheshadow/pseuds/Kearatheshadow
Summary: When Keith and Lance started dating, Pidge’s friend group took on two more people: Lance, and his best friend Hunk. Pidge loved everything about Hunk from the beginning--including how he was in bed.Friends with benefits is all fun and games until an Ill-fated camping trip drags them into the outskirts of a secret dangerous world, and their friendship is tested in more ways than one.In Lance’s defense, he had just wanted to go stargazing.





	1. Pidge

**Author's Note:**

> These woods are lovely, dark and deep,  
> But the stars have promises to keep,  
> Darling, you have miles to run before you sleep,  
> It’s after you now, don’t you dare sleep.

Gwen Stefani’s “The Sweet Escape,” was Matt’s ending tune as he was practically dragged out of the Garrison College Radio booth. He gave everyone finger guns as Pidge physically escorted him out, already 10 minutes late. Shiro was waiting outside, looking considerably more comfortable in his hoodie and jeans that he changed into after his last class. Being a T.A. was still strange to him, and he liked being able to blend in.

“Friday night is a-calling,” Matt sang, as he slung an arm over Pidges shoulders. “And we’re gonna be spending it watching Keith fawn over his new boyfriend.”

“Keith doesn’t fawn over anyone,” Pidge replied, pulling out their phone to squint at the directions Keith had texted them. “And he promised that if it gets truly awkward the guy--,”

“Lance,” Shiro said quietly.

“Yeah, Lance’s roommate has Smash, and we can all destroy each other as a distraction.”

“I will happily destroy them to show that we are the Alphafriends,” Matt replied.

Shiro’s mouth curled up, and he nudged Matt off the sidewalk. “Sure, as long as no one else picks Link.”

“Fight me, Takashi.”

The sun was starting to go down as they walked off Garrison’s campus, and they turned down a side street of old brick buildings converted into apartments, convenience stores, and Chinese restaurants-- the unofficial student district of an old college town.

The building looked like an old motel, and three floors up, Shiro politely knocked on number 12. Pidge looked up just in time from their phone to lock eyes with the most gorgeous man they had ever seen. He was just _big_ and _soft,_ and when he smiled at them, his whole face lit up. “Hey guys,” he said, stepping back to let everyone in. “You’re just in time for pizza. I’m Hunk, Lance’s roommate.”

Keith waved a little awkwardly from the couch, and Lance was wrapped up in cords on the floor, setting up Smash preemptively. Shiro smiled and introduced them, turning up the charm to put Keith at ease. “I’m Shiro, this is Pidge and their brother Matt.” Pidge didn’t know if Keith had given Lance and Hunk the “pronoun talk” or not, but they were glad Shiro dropped a hint anyway.

“It’s good to finally meet you guys,” Lance said, as he crawled behind the TV. “Just give me a sec. There’s beer and soda in the fridge if you want anything.”

Shiro and Matt went to sit in the makeshift “living room” that they managed to make in the tiny-two bedroom, but Pidge, despite their better judgment, followed Hunk into the kitchen. The smell of dough overwhelmed the tiny apartment, and Pidge watched Hunk take two pizzas out of the oven, carefully balancing them on the last available counter space.

His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, and his arms and wrists flexed. Pidge stared a little too long. They blurted out, “did you make that pizza by hand?”

He smiled when he looked at them and set the potholders aside. “Frozen, sorry. I did make brownies early today though.”

“Unfortunately not the weed kind,” Lance called out.

Hunk laughed as he dug out a pizza cutter. “They’re good enough on their own.” He glanced behind him with a softer, polite smile. “So, Pidge right? What major are you?” Hunk asked, the easy conversation tool for students.

Pidge took the bait, a little disappointed, but unable to think of anything better. “Organic Chem and Comp Sci, double major.”

To their surprise, Hunk brightened and turned, pizza forgotten. “That’s really cool! I’m minoring in Comp Sci actually, major in Environmental Engineering.”

“Wait, that's awesome. Did you ever have Arboch?” They tried to be neutral, but the negative tone seeped through.  

“Unfortunately,” he replied, leaning back on the counter. There was no stronger solidarity than a mutually hated professor. “It would’ve been a lot easier if he wasn’t so damn patronizing every time we asked a question on a project. I mean, of _course_ , no one’s gonna like you if you just code in the front of the class for 3 hours and not even cover the topic the project is actually on.”

“I’m taking Network Programming now,” Pidge said like that explained everything, and to them, it did.

They were looking at each other, and Hunk’s eyes were soft brown, mouth curled up a smirk. “I see VMs in my nightmares because of that class,” he joked, and Pidge was smiling, chest suddenly tighter.

When they usually flirt, Pidge was driven by the need to impress, sometimes to even one-up them somehow-- usually in bed-- but they didn’t feel that at all here. Hunk, (and he _was_ a Hunk), didn’t seem to have a competitive bone in his body. He was genuine, and Pidge was struck by the urge to _ruin_ him.

Hunk, completely unaware of Pidge’s plotting, reached into the fridge for a beer. The sounds of Smash and yelling started up behind them, and Pidge struck. They moved forward, reaching behind Hunk, and got a little too close, grabbing a beer as well.

Hunk accommodated by giving them more room, but he couldn’t hide the nervous way he ran his hand through his hair. “Y-you know, I took that class last year, and I save all my notes on my laptop. I can send you the stuff I took, see if it will help.” He smiled down at them, and Pidge was done for.

They were going to eat this man _alive._

Pidge curbed their thirst for the time being though and tried their best to get to know Lance too, bouncing off of his enthusiasm and a mutual love of video games. However, they kept coming back to Hunk, staying within his orbit, and they had exchanged numbers Friday night, a little tipsy and tired, but neither of them had done anything with it.

Pidge had gotten an email notification on Sunday with a smiley face, Network Programming notes attached. They weren’t color coded, but were organized and neatly labeled in groups of bullet points, and Pidge was impressed.

The next time Pidge saw him was too damn early in the morning on Monday. There was a line near the dining hall, the beacon of free coffee drawing everyone in like sleep-deprived moths to a caffeinated flame.

Pidge saw him ahead in line and zeroed in on the back of his head. Lance was with him too, animated and refreshed compared to everyone else. The line moved forward steadily, and Pidge was rehearsing what they were going to say, opting for the casual _hey, thanks for the notes, we should study together,_ when Keith sidled up next to them, fingerless gloves wrapped around the largest Red Bull Pidge had ever seen.

“You’re staring,” Keith said, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Am not,” they replied, reaching forward to snag a cup from the stack on the table. “But you could be kind enough to go say hi to your boyfriend and let me tag along.”

Keith moved out of the way as Pidge got coffee, but didn’t make any effort to move. “Hunk and Lance like to wait for me by the doors to Roswell because we all have class in the same building.”

Pidge glanced at him, ignoring the way his small smile had grown into a full-blown smirk “You know that I have class across the quad right?”

“You have 10 minutes.”

It wasn't the best idea but they relented anyway. Pidge pulled away from the table, hot coffee in hand. “Is he single?”

Keith shrugged. “Probably.”

“Straight?”

Keith frowned then, leading the way towards Roswell hall. “I’ve never heard him talk about any ex’s, but he’s really good with pronouns. I think he went to queer meetings with Lance. I’d say 50/50 on either good ally or softcore bi.”

Pidge groaned into their coffee cup. “And I’m a hardcore gay. I barely know the guy and I want to jump him.”

“Lance was all bark and no bite,” Keith replied. “I think you’re gonna have to go on the offensive with Hunk though.”

He nodded to their right, and Lance waved as they got closer, bright and cheery. “Morning Keith! Hey Pidge.”  

“Hey,” they said, doing their best to sound friendly. Hunk gave a little wave.

_Shit_ , he was cute. “Thanks for the notes. I got the concepts down well enough, but I think they’ll help for reviewing.”

“Don’t worry about it. Do you have a lot to do?”

Pidge made a face and he snorted a laugh.

“They were looking for a study partner actually,” Keith interjected less-than-subtly.

“I’m probably going to be camped out in the Anderson computer lab all week,” Hunk said like it was the easiest thing in the world. “We can suffer together if you’d like?”

“We can set up a caffeine IV drip,” Pidge joked, suddenly feeling more awake. “I have to get to class though.”

A smile stretching across his face and he saluted them with his coffee. “May all of your functions have comments, and all your bugs be fixable.”

Pidge turned, face warm and waved bye to Keith and Lance as the three of them went inside.

The adrenaline had them floating on air all the way to class, which went by in a blur.

Pidge ran through their mental calendar as they left, and steered themselves towards the computer lap, the deadline for their next assignment looming.

**_Update_ ** _,_ Keith said in the group chat as Pidge descended into the dungeon that was the computer lab. **_Pidge is Gay™_ **

**_Tragic_ ** _,_ Matt responded. **_I raised them 2 be gay af_ **

Pidge nearly tripped down the stairs trying to get their reply out. **_Don’t @ me like this Kogane_ **

**_What’s going on?_** Shiro asked, ever sensible and a little nosy.

Pidge took their time scoping out the lab, eyeing a row of empty computers near the front of the room that hopefully wouldn’t fill up. Hunk wasn’t there, but Pidge had work to do anyway and they were determined to be patient.

Their phone buzzed as they set their stuff down and logged in, caffeine headache already settling in behind their eyes. It was only 10 am.

**_They’re trying to ask Hunk out like they’re in a dating sim_** _,_ Keith explained. **_Counting each sucessful interaction til they’ve unlocked his route_**

**_Successful* ;)_** Shiro corrected.

**_OHOHOHOHHOHOH_ ** was Matt’s only response. That, and approximately ten thousand eggplant emojis.

**_Lies and slander_ ** Pidge texted.

**_Methinks the lad dost protest too much_ **, Matt shot back, and Pidge was about to bombard him with middle fingers when they felt someone come closer, their bag hitting the floor next to them.

Pidge looked up and saw Hunk, and thought about devils and speaking about them. Or texting about them.

“This seat taken?” He said, the corniest line in existence, and Pidge knew they were done for.

“Only by the brave of heart,” they replied, smiling wide. They looked down and sent out a text, rapid-fire **_Shit hes here gtg_**

He sat down, tucking his legs underneath the chair. “I’m not that brave but I’ll give it a shot.”

“I believe in you,” they said, “It’s too late for me. I think this chair is the only thing connecting me to this reality.”

Hunk started laughing, covering is mouth to try and keep himself quiet, and Pidge did the same, a snicker threatening to tumble into a giggling fit. “I’m just imagining,” he leaned in with a harsh whisper. “Of- of just having to glue you down, to- to keep you from floating away and hitting the ceiling.”

They made the mistake of locking eyes, and Hunk’s shoulders started shaking, and Pidge’s voice hitched up trying to hold it in, and they both started helplessly giggling, curled towards each other in a half-hearted effort to keep it down, unaware of any dirty looks thrown their way.

* * *

 

Keith and Lance brought other people together in a way that only happens when a couple’s friend groups are just similar enough to mesh. Shiro was really cool about inviting Lance when everyone wanted to hang out, and Keith was grateful but embarrassed, confiding to Pidge that Lance was a little starry-eyed because of Shiro’s history as a military pilot.

Hunk wasn’t folded into their group as much, mostly because of the man’s own hesitance-- he kept to himself. From what Pidge could tell, he was very set in his ways-- he had a routine and enjoyed it, and part of it included eating lunch in the campus coffee shop, friends drifting over to chat or to say hi in-between their own classes.

Lance had helpfully clued them in on where Hunk usually was, and Pidge’s classes had a gap three times a week. Hunk had made it clear that this time of day was his study hour, and Pidge let it be, just grateful that he’d let them join. They studied together in a nook of Sal’s coffee shop, headphones in, Hunk’s legs brushing up against Pidge’s when he stretched.

He was still dazzlingly cute, but in the way that someone becomes more attractive the more you get to know them-- his nose twitched when he was distracted, he had a shy smile whenever he made a joke, and the confidence he had when he was in his element was contagious. Pidge’s first assessment of him had been wrong-- he had a hidden competitive streak, and Pidge’s new favorite thing was testing it.

It had been a couple of weeks since they had met, and Pidge was a little more confident now, a little more bold because of their friendship.  They decided to bring up the Topic one afternoon, when he was taking a break from work to eat lunch, scrolling absently through his phone.

_Nice and casual._

They sighed and looked up from their phone. “You wouldn’t happen to know any single queer people on this godforsaken campus would you?”

Hunk looked up and raised one eyebrow, “Not really. Dating apps letting you down?”

“I mean they’re pretty miserable no matter what, but it’s hard enough to get laid without worrying about pronouns and dysphoria and what someone might think.” It was the truth, and Pidge really did want to start hooking up casually, and if they played their cards right, Hunk would be a good first contender.

“Well I think you’re gorgeous,” Hunk replied, meeting their gaze. “And any transphobe that says otherwise can fight me.”

They took a breath. “Well, what about you? Anyone you’re interested in?”

Hunk paused, eyes darting to the side, suddenly embarrassed. “Yes and no. I’m not looking for anything serious right now.”

“Same, dude.”

Hunk put his phone down so he could talk more with his hands, a nervous habit. “I mean I’m Pan, I’d go for anyone, but gay guys on apps don’t like that I’m fat and I’m just friends with most of the girls I know.”

_And what about me?_ They’d hit a nerve apparently, but Pidge wanted to press down harder. “They don’t know what they’re missing, I thought you were hot from the moment I met you.”

Hunk froze for a second then chuckled, a smile spreading across his face. “Really? Thank you.”

Pidge swallowed, adrenaline spending sparks down their spine, but they leaned forward on their elbows, trying to be casual. “You know...I’m not looking for anything serious either.”

Hunk’s eyes met their’s, a little wide, and he took a moment to process, and then his mouth twisted up into a crooked smile. Pidge never took their eyes off his face, noticing the way he focused on their lips. _Please_.

He leaned forward carefully, the picture of confident control, but his voice gave him away. “I...um. I’m free after class if you want to study together at my place,” he whispered.  

Pidge’s smile turned wicked, but they lowered their voice to match his. “Hunk Garrett, you don’t have anything to study for until next week.”

He seemed to relax at their teasing tone, their banter easy and familiar. “I guess we’ll have to do something else then.”

_Was this actually happening?_

They leaned back into their chair, head tilting to the side. “I guess we’ll have to. If you can keep up.”

Hunk didn’t reply immediately, a little too flustered to do anything more than run his hand through his hair and smile. When he did reply, he decided to deflect. “We should go to class soon.”

Pidge glanced at the time and sighed, trance broken. “Yeah, we should.”

_Is this real? Does he really want me back?_

“Meet me at Ripley Quad after class?” He looked at them, a little shy and a little hopeful, and Pidge’s heart jumped.

“Meet you there.”

* * *

Pidge ended up being the one that arrived late, their professor taking a little too long to give back quizzes, and they were already sweating just from the walk over. They’d spent the entire class distracted and riled up anyway; thigh bouncing, resisting the urge to grind in their chair, unabashedly daydreaming about whether Hunk liked his hair being pulled. Pidge had wound themselves up tight, the prospect of ending a year-long dry spell making them almost _too_ eager.

Sweat beaded down the back of their binder as they walked across the Quad towards Hunk, free condoms from the school bathroom heavy in their pocket.

Hunk had waited for them in the corner of the quad, underneath one of the trees to provide some shelter from the sun. As they got closer, Pidge got his attention and made eye contact. They saw Hunks expression change into something close to relief.

"Sorry, the class got out late," they said slightly out of breath.

Hunk smiled at them, all nervous energy and forced confidence. "It's alright," he murmured, and he half stepped sideways, tilting his head in the direction of his apartment. "Ready to go?"

They started walking, and the silence that usually was so easy burned underneath Pidge’s tongue because of all the things they wanted to say. _Fuck it._

"Just to clarify," they said firmly, determined to press on because vague flirting could only take them so far. "This is-- We're not going to study."

Hunk half-looked at them as they walked, eyebrows shooting up in disbelief. "Do you, want to. _Study_?" He said it slowly, the first half of his sentence a question, but then his voice cracked on the last word, bubbled laughter fought back.

" _Listen,_ " Pidge stressed, "I just want to make sure we're on the same page."

Hunk’s mouth twisted as he forced himself to try and keep a straight face. "I had no idea you were so dedicated to your education Pidge."

"Shut the fuck up Hunk, you _know_ I want this." They lightly rammed into him with their shoulder as they said it.

Hunk's smile blossomed for a split second, then faded to something smaller and more hesitant. "Just to clarify," he echoed. "What is this?"

"I want to stay friends," was the first thing out of their mouth.

"Nothing serious," he agreed, "Completely casual."

They walked for a heartbeat and then: "We are talking about fucking each other right?"

Hunk jolted, more than a little startled, but he recovered quickly, voice dry. "No, we're talking about _homework."_

"Whoops," Pidge replied, voice equally deadpan. "My mistake, guess I brought the ball gag for nothing."

Hunk's laugh gained a nervous edge to it. "For you or for me?"

Pidge, grin sharp and wild, started speed walking away.

" _Pidge_ -"

They laughed and seeing the dark green roof of his apartment building down the block, started jogging.

They heard the heavy footsteps of Hunk behind them and they raced to the base of the stairs where they gave in, waiting for him as they caught their breath. Hunk leaned against the wall and caught his breath too, grinning from ear to ear. "That was mean," he rasped.

"Worth it," they replied, feeling their ribs ache with every inhale. "I need to take my binder off."

"Can your pants go too?" He asked innocently, and Pidge grinned slowly, letting the sudden shift in tension speak for itself.

They couldn’t get up the stairs fast enough.

Hunk unlocked the door and let them inside, only for Pidge to pin him to the nearest wall and stretch up to kiss him.

Or, they tried too.

Hunk smiled a little too fondly as Pidge strained on their toes, mouth barely reaching his jaw. He placed his hands on their hips as they relented and dropped their heels. “Why the fuck are you so tall,” they grumbled, stepping back a half an inch to let him go.

Hunk just snorted a laugh, and the hands on their hips gently pressed Pidge to him as he leaned down to kiss them, all soft edges and thinly-veiled desperation.

Pidge only added fuel to the fire, lighting them both up with the same aching need to touch and be touched as they made the kiss messier, one hand tangled in his hair and the other clawing lines down his chest.

Hunk gasped, fingers fumbling to slid underneath their shirt, hands spreading across their lower back and Pidge pulled back enough to gently bite his lip, face flushed. “Let me take my binder off, nerd.”

Hunk swallowed. “You say that like you’re not the one that started it.”

Pidge just grinned, for once running out of smart remarks. They felt adrenaline rushing through them, breaking down their inhibitions and insecurities.

They stepped back and shrugged off their shirt, dropping it to the floor, where their binder followed, a significantly harder and less sexy task— but when they finally managed to get it off, Hunk was staring at them.

He was half staring at least, an embarrassed glow around him as he couldn’t quite look at them directly or in the eyes.

“Your turn,” they said as they unbuttoned the shorts they were wearing. “I want to see you.”

Pidge walked over and made themselves comfortable on the couch, more than a little relieved they wore plain boxers.

Hunk groaned a little helplessly, taking half-hearted steps to follow. “You can’t just- holy shit is this really happening.”

There was a pause as Pidge watched Hunk take off his shirt, and then, a small: “Do you want it too?”

“Yes,” he said quickly, breathlessly. “I’m just nervous-but don’t. Don’t doubt that-“

Hunk was stuttering, big hands curling up, but he was still more than gorgeous to Pidge, who wanted nothing more than to drag their nails down his fuzzy chest. “I just- I want you to know that I want. Um.”

Pidge smiled up at him from the couch with a knowing look, which only seemed to make Hunk more nervous.

“Hunk. Dude.” Hunk quieted with a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. Pidge waited until he finally looked them in the eye- and then they spread their knees apart, arms coming up invite him closer. “Stop talking.”

It was a command but also a confirmation, the last one he needed. Pidge fully expected him to join them on the couch, but Hunk fell to this knees instead, almost instinctively, large hands sliding up their thighs.

  
Pidge felt their face heat up, throat closed, their whole body tensed- they resisted the urge to shove his face in between their thighs, instead quietly threading their fingers through his hair.  
  
“Yeah?” They breathed.  
  
Hunk dipped his head closer, kissing the point where their boxers ended, and then let his cheek rest there, gazing up at them with a pleased grin. “Yeah.” He kissed their thigh again, and his hands drifted further up, fingers curling under the waistband of their boxers.  
  
“Off, please.” He said, tugging on the waistband impatiently.  
  
Pidge snorted a laugh but lifted up their hips enough to let him tug them off. He threw them to the side, rushing to put his hands back on their skin.    
  
He leaned forward again, and Pidge stopped breathing as he hovered over them, kissing just below their belly button.  
  
He was going to _ruin_ them.

 

  
He breathed in, face slack, eyes up, waiting for permission, and Pidge was firmly reminded of the fantasies they crafted in their head just an hour ago.  
  
Nothing could beat the real thing.  
  
“Yes,” they whispered as they curled their fingers in his hair and pulled. “Yes-” Their voice cracked on a moan.  
  
He was as soft and gentle as they expected him to be, but he was also _hot,_ shoulders pushing at their thighs as he made space for himself, sticky skin sliding against theirs in the humid stale air of his apartment. His mouth was almost idle, tracing their folds and mouthing against their clit, taking his time, and it was already driving Pidge up the _fucking_ wall.

They chalked it up to inexperience, choosing instead to pull on his hair, hips twitching impatiently. You can go faster,” they said, feeling the hands on their hips tighten, the muscles of his arms flexing to pull them closer, hips half off the couch and legs over his shoulders.

He was cradling them like they weighed _nothing_ and Pidge swore as they threw their head back. Hunk had sped his tongue up, lapping at their clit, hard movements that made their legs twitch with every stroke. It was to the point of being overwhelming when he was gone, brushing his nose lower, dragging his tongue around their entrance, curling his tongue in them as far as he could reach and Pidge bucked with a gasp, hips rocking mindlessly, trying to get more.

Hunk hand moved from their thigh, dragging his fingers up to hover below his chin, teasingly close to their entrance.

Pidge looked down at him as he slowed, and their eyes met as he stared at them. “You want something?” He asked lightly, voice saturated with honey-sweet innocence.

Hunk’s eyes were dark, pupils blown wide, and his smile was wicked and _wet,_ mouth and chin shiny with slick and he looked _so fucking satisfied with himself._

Pidge _ached._

“You can use them,’ they said, sweat gathering at their temples.

“Two?” he asked, as he brushed his fingers up against them. 

Pidge was arching their hips up in small movements, rocking forward to get any sort of friction and it took them a second to process the question.

It didn’t take long to reach a decision, however-- they’d been thinking about his hands since day one.

“Three,” they breathed, biting down a whine.

He hummed, but still teased them, only pushing the tips of two fingers in, gently and so definitely _not enough._

“Come on I know what I can handle,” Pidge said, voice sharp as they tugged on Hunk’s hair. “I want it, just fucking-- _oh god fuckplease.”_

Pidge was seeing stars, head through back against the couch because they’d never felt so fucking _full_ in their _life_.

He was a good multitasker, apparently. Three thick fingers curling up and grinding in them while he took care of them with his tongue, lapping at their clit like his life depended on it.

He got into a punishing rhythm, and Pidge got louder, legs tensing on his shoulders, exposed and twitching, their whole body practically curling up off the couch the faster he went. His fingers were stuffed inside them, rubbing circles and grinding and Pidge was _so fucking close._

They chased it, grinding into his mouth and they made the mistake of looking down and Hunk was _there_ and this was _real_ and he looked _amazing_ on his knees, and they may have started begging, they couldn’t be sure, because he kept hitting that spot inside them and Pidge was _flying_ , sparks shooting down their spine as they came, head thrown back and hands gripping his hair like a lifeline.

He slowed down, a little hesitantly, fingers twisting inside them still, and Pidge shuddered, lifting their head to look at him again. _“Hunk, shh stop-p,_ too much.”

He raised his head to look at them, and his eyes were glossed over, mouth slightly open as he breathed. He looked more fucked out than they did, and more than a little reluctant to stop as he gently removed his fingers, but Pidge practically fell off the couch to kiss him, tasting himself on his lips as he groaned. He mumbled something about a towel and when he stood on shaky legs they saw that he was still wearing his jeans, the outline of his cock thick against the fabric.

He came back with a washcloth and cleaned them up, helping them stand.

“Probably should move to an actual bed,” they said, voice light.

“Probably,” he said, a little sheepish. “I just won’t tell Lance about the couch.”

Pidge snorted a laugh as they went to his room, and pulled him close as they closed the door. “Wanna sit against the wall for me?”

“Will you let me go to do that?” He asked as he kissed them, and Pidge grinned, more than a little pleased that he still tasted like them.

“Take off your pants first,” they teased, dragging their nails across the skin above his hip. He fumbled to do as he was told, kicking his pants and boxers off to the side, and Pidge squeezed his butt as they moved towards the bed.

Hunk did sit against the wall, at the head of the bed, and Pidge eyed him as they crawled into his lap, attention narrowing to his dick. They could barely fit their legs over his hips comfortably, and it only made them want to ride him more-- he was so _big_ and he was big _everywhere_ and Pidge couldn’t help themselves-- they ground their clit against his cock, still wet and sensitive from Hunk’s mouth.

_“P-Pidge,”_ he was stuttering, hands coming up to rest on their hips, but more to hold on for the ride than to move them anywhere. He was just watching them, the same fucked out expression on his face, and his cock twitching with each long grind against him.

“What do you want?” They asked him, ready to blow his mind like he had blown theirs.

“Honestly,” his voice was smaller, higher, desperate. “You could do anything you wanted to me at this point and I’d say thank you.”

It took a second to figure out that he was serious and when it clicked, Pidge felt like they swallowed lightning, a hot current of electricity burning them up from the inside out. “It’s like that is it?”

Hunk was avoiding their eyes as he nodded, but when he did look at them, he must’ve seen something in their face, because his pupils grew wide, and he bit his lip.

Pidge rested one hand against the side of his face, the other coming up to tangle in his hair, already falling into a somewhat familiar headspace. “Safe word? Limits?”

His breathing was getting harsher as Pidge moved, and he rubbed his face into Pidge’s palm, caught between wanting to chase that feeling and needing to face a hard conversation.

“Color system is fine,” he said eventually, “and I’m still-- I haven’t found anyone--”

“It’s a new thing?” Pidge had explored dynamics in their last relationship, but they still hadn’t hooked up with anyone since their first year of college.

“No. Yes. They’ve always assumed I’d be a dom because I’m big, so I haven’t really--”

Pidge hummed. “It’s okay. But what do you want _me_ to do?”

“Tell me what to do,” he said immediately, letting out a small sound as Pidge wrapped their hand around his cock as a reward. “And I like making you feel good, like getting you off, being on my knees.”

He groaned as Pidge put pressure on the underside of his cock, leaning forward to bring their faces close. “Praise?” They asked gently.

“Yes please,” he forced out between a whine, and Pidge felt his cock throb in their hand, feeling like a fucking _god._ Here was this big beautiful desperate boy in front of them, and he was practically handing himself over on a silver platter.

Pidge was going to _ruin him._

__

 

* * *

 

They were two weeks into their secret friends-with-benefits relationship when spring break rolled around, and it found them all on the roof of Shiro’s apartment building.

They had started out the night complaining about summer jobs, and Keith mentioned his internship with Fish and Wildlife, and how he’d spend some of it out in the wilderness, and Lance had sighed wistfully, as he tended to do when he got drunk, _I wonder how far out of the city you’d have to get to see the stars._

That spiraled into _something_ , and Pidge realized with some sense of situational irony that out of all the crazy things in this world, everyone in the room _loved space._ And they were all a little drunk and riding the high of a cool common interest and someone suggested trying to see what the sky looked like right that minute.

Pidge noticed, in a sudden moment of clarity, that they were staring next to Hunk and looking at the moon, and that Lance was suggesting that they all go stargazing.

That would’ve been that, but Matt wrote it down in his phone, and Shiro suggested a camping spot up North that he knew, and suddenly the odds went from _a cool drunk idea_ into a _real plausible thing_ and when Pidge woke up the next day, Lance had texted everyone asking if they were free after finals week because it was a new moon and that was that.

They were going stargazing.

* * *

 

The last day of finals hit Pidge hard, considering they’d just pulled an all-nighter to finish a networking project, and had maybe two hours of sleep before they had to be up again for their final class.

They managed to drag their way to their final despite everything, but the moment it was over, they were marching downtown-- they had it on good authority that Lance was in Keith’s apartment recovering, and that Hunk had finished his finals the day before. They were caffeinated, angry, delirious, and they were going to sit on Hunk’s cock even if it killed them.

Hunk opened the door with bedhead and sweat pants and looked suitably overwhelmed as Pidge pushed their way inside, dropped their bag on the ground, and yanked him down for a kiss.

He didn’t resist, one hand curling around their waist and the other fumbling to shut the door. Still, he was slower, sleepy, and refused to get with the program that Pidge needed something and they needed it _now._

_“Good morning,”_ he mumbled, eyebrows raising as he actually took in their appearance. “I hope you’re here to take a nap.”

“Fuck no,” Pidge replied, pressing closer to him. “Shut up and let me ride you.”

Hunk blinked, mind working overtime. “Um”

Pidge kissed him again, moving to make the kiss deeper and longer when Hunk’s brain finally caught up, and his hands stretched to the underside of their thighs, the sign that he wanted to pick them up. Pidge gladly took him up on it, hopping into his arms and kissing Hunk’s jaw, leaving fleeting little bites down his neck.

He dropped them onto the bed, and Pidge reached up to drag their shirt off when Hunk came at them, pinning them down and manhandling them, and with a sense of exhausted horror, they realized that they’d been played. Hunk made himself the big spoon and curled Pidge close, more than a little smug.

“Bedtime,” he said into their hair as Pidge squirmed.

“It’s 9:32 in the fucking morning.”

“Bedtime,” he insisted. “I’ll fuck you in like, two hours.”

The problem with Hunk’s bed was that it was the _comfiest shit in the world,_ and Pidge could already feel themselves fading fast.

“Fine.” They agreed. They weren’t gonna fight him on this. The warmth of him against their back was too nice.

“Oh I meant to ask you,” he murmured after they got settled. “Before we go stargazing next week, how are tents going to work? I’m assuming you still don’t want to tell anyone?”

“I’ll share a tent with you,” they replied, mouth fuzzy from fighting off sleep. “Matt texted yesterday and said that he’s not actually going anyway. But no sex in the tent, too loud. They’ll know.”

“The friends part of friends with benefits,” he agreed, voice deeper as he yawned. “Just checking.” He kissed the back of their neck absently, and Pidge hummed, warmth settling in their chest.

As reality got hazy, a small voice in the back of their mind whispered about exactly how happy Hunk made them feel.

It was only a couple hours later, after they woke up, that Pidge realized what it meant.

If they kept this up, they wouldn’t be satisfied with the _friends_ part of _friends with benefits anymore._

* * *

Noxella Campground was deserted when they drove in, other than a bored attendant. Lance ended up getting out of Keith’s busted pick-up, and double checked to make sure that they had gotten the campsite he had requested-- a clearing facing North, with minimal trees around them.

The attendant had handed him a map with hand-drawn sharpie arrows and a list of rules, and Lance remembered to buy firewood at the last second, throwing the bundle in the back. Then they were off, and they climbed higher up the winding roads, past dirt paths that branched out into clusters of campsites. They didn’t pass a single other car, but finally turned off of the main road and into the heart of the forest.

The week after finals kicked off hard with a summer heatwave, and everyone was ready to run far, far away from the desert hellscape of their college town-- Lance’s plan of fleeing upstate to the mountains was more than welcome.  

Matt, about to be freshly graduated in less than two weeks, furiously threw his resume at every communications position in the state. He’d promised to drive up Friday with fresh supplies and spend the weekend with them, once Senior Week with his friends was over.

Shiro had promised to do the same since he was busy covering for his co-worker who was getting married. So the only ones stuffed in the truck at 2 pm on a Monday were the undergrads, Keith and Lance up front, with Hunk and Pidge squished together in the back.

Pidge was more in the hump seat than their own, as the rear left door of Keith’s truck had never recovered from an accident, more than a little crumbled, and they were afraid if they even leaned on it, it would fall off. It also just gave them an excuse to be closer to Hunk, and they’d ended up sharing headphones and listening to music most of the way up.

“What number are we again?” asked Keith, wincing as his truck groaned up the gravel road.

“Uh, 38,” Lance answered looking at the map again.

“Shit did we pass it?”

“No, it’s literally at the ass end of the map.”

“Only you would bring us as far away from civilization as possible,” Hunk deadpanned, grinning at Lance’s offended glare. “We’re all gonna get murdered in the middle of the woods cuz’ a you.”

“Like’d I’d do that, I’m not fucking with ghosts my dude--sHIT Keith turn here--”

Keith swore and swerved, and Pidge flew into Hunk’s side as everything swung to the right. “--okay just keep taking lefts at every fork in the road and we’ll get there.”

“You are the _worst co-pilot,”_ Keith grumbled back but took one hand off the wheel to hold Lance’s hand.

“So yeah,” Lance said, bringing the conversation back to the most important point. “If this place is haunted I’m leaving all of you behind.”

“You told me that the first dorm we moved into freshman year and you still stayed with me.” Hunk pointed out.

He looked at Pidge and grinned, nodding in Lance’s direction. “He said the common room in Washburn Hall was haunted.”

“Like Hell it wasn’t!” Lance protested, twisting in his seat to glare at his friend. “You knew it, I knew it, my Abuela could _smell_ it on me when I visited her. She made me go to church!”

“I’d believe it,” Keith said pointedly.

“I want to believe,” Hunk interrupted in a deep wavering voice.

Keith huffed a laugh. “Shut it. We live in New Mexico, it’s the alien capital of the country and our school is on the edge of the desert. There’s gotta be at least one ghost.”

Pidge leaned forward towards the console “Ohh shit I don’t think I ever told you about my dad.”

Keith raised his eyebrows as he took another turn. “Yeah?”

They stage-whispered. “He decided he wanted to work for NASA so he could gain access to Area 51.”

“Did he?”

Pidge leaned back and grinned. “He went on a business trip to Utah when I was a baby, you tell me.”

Hunk squinted. “I don’t think...”

“Holdup-” Keith stomped on the brakes and threw the truck into park. “HOLD up -- we’re here everyone get out-- but you’re seriously telling me you think Area 51 is in _Utah_?”

Pidge cackled and slid out of the truck. “Can you prove that it’s not, Mulder?”

“It’s in. _Nevada,”_ he shouted back as everyone stumbled out into the dry heat.

The road had split off and narrowed, spilling into a small dirt clearing. Their campsite was circular, with enough space on the tree line to park, but it had a firepit in the middle, a worse-for-wear picnic table, and more than enough space for a few tents and their gear. The tree line surrounded most of it, but one part was a cliffside, blocked off by a thigh-high man-made rock wall. The rock wall, however, didn’t hide the view of the valley below, or the giant stretch of blue sky.

Lance immediately ran to the rock wall and heaved himself up, arms outstretched as he looked from the sky back to his friends. “ _It’s perfect.”_

Lance showed them the map the attendant had given them. Their campsite, along with four others, had access to a shower/bathroom combo further into the woods, a nearby section of the river, and a volleyball court. They could buy firewood and ice, get some odds and ends and rent equipment from the campground store, and throw away trash in the dumpster next to it.

The timing was rough since they had to set up camp when the sun was high, but besides a few shaded breaks and a messy struggle with one of the tents, their ramshackle home-for-the-week was ready in a few hours.

Pidge knew that they only had two tents between all of them, and they had pre-agreed to this setup, but it didn’t really hit them until they dumped their bags into the tent, and watched as Hunk did the same, back hunched in the cramped space. He was so much bigger than they were, and the lack of room made it more obvious.

Hoping that they weren’t blushing, Pidge knelt on their side of the tent and started to organize their stuff for the week. Hunk unrolled his sleeping bag and immediately flopped onto it with a satisfied sigh, lacing his hands behind his head. 

Pidge was struck with the sudden urge to keep those hands pinned down and tie him up, their mind supplying a helpful memory of just that.

  

Pidge stared firmly at their toothbrush, 100% committed to nothing but realistic, platonic thoughts in Tent Punk like they had talked about. They were going to burn up from sexual frustration otherwise.

Pidge stood up, ready to volunteer to collect the first batch of tinder, but made the mistake of looking down at Hunk.

He was stretched out like big sleepy cat, calm and content just to enjoy his break. Warmth rose up to their chest as their throat closed, and Pidge faltered, caught between the urge to _snuggle the hell out of him_ and the urge to bury their hands in his hair, smash their faces together and absolutely _wreck_ him.  

Fate apparently, didn’t like that at all, because, in the next second, he opened his eyes.

Pidge made a hasty retreat.

“I’m going to grab some branches for the fire,” they shouted to no one in particular, but Keith made some noise of acknowledgment from the other tent, so they picked a direction and went in it, crashing through the woods until they were a few yards away, enough that they could stop, lean against a tree, and allow themselves to briefly die of embarrassment.

This was dumb, they were an adult, they needed to get their shit together, this whole trip wasn’t going to be centered around him, they were just pent up, _why didn’t they masturbate before going on this trip for fuck’s sake._

Pidge took it out on the forest instead, tripping over roots and rocks as they collected branches, relaxing the further they went. The birds started singing again, becoming comfortable with their presence. The canopy above parted in places, leaving pockets of soft dappled sunlight, and Pidge made their way to one of the main walking paths, arms weighed down with wood.

They didn’t get to be in forests often, but the rustling of the trees felt almost like a reassurance, welcoming them. Finals were over, their summer job didn’t start for another two weeks, they were on vacation-- they could let go for once, and fuck it all if they weren’t going to enjoy it.

They heard Lance before they even saw the campsite, laugh echoing through the trees.

“I’m back with the wood!” they called out when they saw the red pick-up.

“ _Wood_ you light my fire?” Lance shouted back, and Pidge could _hear_ the smug grin all over his face.

Pidge stomped into the campsite and dumped the wood at Lance’s feet, where he was lounging in a folding chair. “Would _you_ light it instead?”

Lance closed his eyes again and slithered further into the chair. “Nah.”

“I will,” Hunk volunteered, emerging from the tent.

Pidge smiled, looked down at Lance, and used all of their energy to push Lance over, sending him toppling over into the dirt. “Great!” they said, ignoring Lance’s shriek. “He’ll help.”

They both huddled over the fire pit, and after a few minutes of swearing and panicked inhales, the fire started to grow.

Hunk stretched and clapped Lance on the back, bringing him in for a side hug. “Nice! Let’s assemble the telescopes and prep for stargazing later tonight.”

Lance flopped back into his folding chair once he was sure the logs had caught. “Listen. I know this was my idea, but staying up every night is gonna be hell for everyone’s sleep schedule.”

Pidge flopped next to him and shrugged. “I barely sleep anyway, at least I’ll have company at 4 am.”

Hunk made a pained noise. “Why are you like this.”

“I ask myself that all the time, my dude.”

“Well it’s our first big night,” Lance leans back in this chair and crosses his ankles. “What do we want for dinner?”

Hunk sat in his own chair and thought it over. “We’ve got plenty of breakfast stuff, some pasta, and some stuff we can make for burritos. I think we’re gonna be eating sandwiches for lunch all week though.”

“I vote burritos,” Lance raised his hand.

“I’m fine with that,” Pidge said and noticed Keith standing by the rock wall, staring hard at the sky. “Hey, Mulder! Get over here and throw in your vote for dinner before we get the telescopes up."

He jumped slightly, and walked over, frowning. “Stop calling me that. But, uh anyone able to connect to the campground wifi? I want to check the weather for tonight.”

Pidge took out their phone and saw Hunk and Lance do the same. “I thought when we checked Saturday it said it’d be clear all week.”

“I did too,” he said, pointing behind him. “But there are clouds rolling in from the west. If it gets bad I don’t want to set up for nothing.”

“Shit,” Hunk swore, apparently getting to his weather app first. “You’re right, mine says it’s gonna be cloudy from 10 to 3.”

Lance groaned. “Mine says partly cloudy, but that’s not much better.”

Pidge’s weather app finally loaded. “Well what about Tuesday night? The night of the new moon? It says it’ll be clear then.”

“We’ll have to keep an eye on it,” Keith said firmly, mind already made up. “Let’s just take it easy tonight.”

Lance stretched and poked him gently with his foot. “Then relax and take it easy. Let’s find the beer and make some goddamned burritos.”

Despite everyone’s excitement, the food and the beer only seemed to make everyone sleepy, and they called it an early night after a frankly exhausting game of tipsy Uno.

Pidge was buzzed and tired and out of fucks to give, and just stripped down the moment they got in their tent, making Hunk choke as he hurriedly zipped closed the front flap. “Well hello to you too,” he said, a little incredulous.

“I’m just getting changed, calm down.” They replied, lowering their voice as they pulled on sweatpants. “It’s not like you’ve never seen me naked.”

“Just startled me, ya know?” he said, as he pulled his own pants off. “It’s hard to be platonically naked at this point.”

Pidge remembered their earlier crisis they had and blushed bright red. “Maybe this will be harder than we thought.”

“Nope,” he said, taking his shirt off. “We can handle ourselves, we’ll be fine.” He looked over at them, one of the rare occurrences where they didn’t have their binder, and Pidge saw him swallow heavily. “ON the other hand it would be easier if you would put on a shirt.” He thrust the t-shirt he’d just taken off at them, a slightly panicked expression on his face.

Pidge just laughed but took it happily, the shirt draping over them like a dress. “Let’s just go to bed, you giant dork.”

Hunk followed their lead and they curled up in the sleeping bags, placing the lamp between them.

Hunk settled onto his back with a sigh as Pidge pulled up the alarm app and set it.

“Pidge?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m really happy we’re here.” He said it softly, staring at the ceiling of the tent, and Pidge lied on their side to face him, more than a little curious.

“Like, stargazing?”

He hummed. “Yeah. I was nervous at first, I dunno why, but I don’t want being nervous to get in the way of doing cool stuff this summer. I want to make memories.”

Pidge frowned, “It sounded like you were more afraid of _not_ experiencing stuff.”

Hunk glanced at them. “I’ve been really trying to get out of my comfort zone lately, mostly because I want to do the things I love before I graduate and trap myself in some desk job in a field I’m only lukewarm about.”

“I thought you liked EE.”

“I mean, I liked computers and hardware, Environmental Engineering seemed like such a broad field, I liked building stuff and wanted to do something real to fight climate change, and I figured I could go anywhere with it-- but it’s already third year and I don’t know, I’m nervous.”

Pidge inched closer and he finally turned his head fully to look at them, the lamp casting weird shadows on his face. “Well, what do you want to do then?” they asked.

Hunk sighed. “I don’t know. I don’t want to waste my degree. I guess just make enough money until I can do something else. I like what I do, don’t get me wrong, but I think making robots and collecting rocks was more of a hobby that I overexaggerated how much I liked. I’m afraid if I try something else I’ll just ruin another hobby for myself.”

“That really sucks man.”

“I _know_.”

“You really got no backup plan though?”

His face changed, eyes flickering and he twisted his lips to the side. He knew exactly what he wanted to do, he just didn’t want to admit it. Pidge nudged him with their foot. “Go on.”

Hunk mulled it over some more  and looked at them out of the corner of his eye. “It’s dumb and predictable.”

“Hunk, my dude.”

“Fiiine.” His voice got smaller. “I want to go to culinary school. I’ve already got experience working in restaurants. I could maybe do it. In the future.”

“I don’t think it's dumb,” they said, moving closer, trying to sound serious. “I think you’re dumb for _thinking_ that's dumb. The future is scary, adulthood isn’t real. Pay off your student loans and open a bakery. Flip off the Dean.”

Hunk looked at them, eyes going a little wider before he started snickering, struggling to keep quiet. He turned on his side to face them, smashing his face into his elbow. “Why are you like this.”

“Hunk--”

“Shush. How are you always so _confident?”_ He was smiling, whispering, eyes never leaving their face. “You are never afraid to be yourself, to do what’s right. You’d do anything for your friends, to follow your dreams-- that's so _badass_ , Pidge. You know that, right?”

Pidge’s mouth was dry, mind veering to a stop. The only thing they knew was that their heart _hurt_ with something that might have been love, might have been adoration, maybe even fear-- the fact that all of that, the jumble of words that they heard over the roar in their ears was coming from Hunk killed them a little inside.

This wasn’t a little crush anymore.

“Pssh, I know I’m badass,” they said after a few long seconds, face carefully crafted into a smile. “But we’re talking about you here, don’t hide from my well-intended, reckless life advice.” Now that they restarted their heart, it was going a mile a minute, a fluttering mess in their throat.

Pidge wanted to kiss him. He was right there, funny and sincere and a little lost-- and Pidge _could_ do that, they could inch closer and press close to him and make the lines on his forehead go away, make him to _fucking relax_ for once. He was only a foot away, but they didn’t trust themselves to keep it platonic-- not since it felt almost too... _romantic._

Hunk had a smile on his face, eyes downcast again, studying the ground between them. “I don’t think I can do the fuck-the-world mentality yet, but I like where the summer is going so far.”

He looked at them again and did a sheepish little half-shrug. “Thanks though. For listening.”

_Fuck._ “‘Course, I care about you nerd.” _I think I might be in love with you._ “You’ve listened to me rant about programming enough that it’s only fair.”

He huffed a laugh. “We should probably hit the hay, it’s getting late.”  

Pidge wanted this godforsaken forest to swallow them whole, but they just rolled over and curled their sleeping bag up around them. “You’re probably right. Night.”

He echoed it back, switching off the lamp, and Pidge stared at the wall of the tent, alone with the realization that for the first time in a long time, they were scared of rejection, and being utterly and completely _pissed_ about it.

Their sour mood carried over into the morning, the smell of weird pre-cooked sausages and instant coffee greeting them when they opened their eyes. Fighting sleep-numb fingers, they finally got their jeans and boots on, throwing a hoodie on over Hunk’s shirt. When they stepped outside, the birds were chirping, the grass was wet, the sun was pleasantly warm, and Pidge stared out at the valley and glared.

Pidge knew exactly what would happen on this trip. It was literally the second day. Hunk wasn’t ready to be in a relationship. Pidge was in love with him. They shared a tent. They _were fuckbuddies together in a tent_ and Pidge had to go and catch feelings for the guy.

Pidge knew that they were just going to pine (ha) their whole way through the forest, sigh every time he did something cute (i.e. all the time), and just generally be really fucking Gay.

They were _not having it._

All they had to do was get through the week then go back to seeing him in carefully controlled portions of time during the week to blow off some steam, and the crush would go away. They. Could. Do. This.

Pidge turned around to face the firepit, and Hunk was at a tiny griddle, making breakfast sandwiches with careful concentration. He glanced up and saw them staring, and smiled, waving his spatula. “Morning!”

It was too early for this.

They waved back half-heartedly, and collapsed into one of the folding chairs, pouring themselves coffee from a dented metal pot.

Lance’s ass was hanging out of the pickup, digging through the backseat, and Keith was overlooking the valley, on the phone, somewhat precariously balanced on the rock wall.

It was...kinda nice being out in nature. The air itself was nice, the kind where Pidge could breathe deeply and feel it in the rest of their body, something cool, and fresh high up in the mountains. They weren’t isolated, per say, they were on a designated campground, with neglected bathrooms down the path, but they didn’t have any other campers around them, and it made them feel content.

Hunk seemed to be content too, having built a rhythm around English muffins, eggs, and sausage patties, casual but in control. They made eye contact, and this time, Pidge was the first one to smile.

Neither of them said anything. It was the same comfortable silence that they used in the cafe. It was familiar, and Pidge felt warmth curl in their chest.

The truck door slammed, and Lance bounded over, the map from the campground center in hand. Pidge nodded in Keith’s direction, where he was now pacing in front of the rock. “I hope that’s good news.”

Lance flopped into the chair next to them. “Ehh, maybe not. He said that it was Shiro so something might have happened at home.”

“Yikes,” Hunk said, handing them plates. “We only left yesterday, what could’ve happened?”

“I don’t know man, it might be a 50/50 on whether or not we stay,” he took a bit out of the sandwich, egg yolk oozing out the side.

They ate in silence, the reality of a trip cut short putting everyone on edge, and they watched Keith pace in circles. Hunk started cleaning up.

Finally, Keith hung up, stalking back to their campsite. “Okay so-- stop looking at me like that Lance no one died. Chill.” He crossed his arms, prickly and defensive. “Look, Shiro called because my boss at Wildlife Services left a message. There have just been some wolf sightings the next mountain over, and he just warned us to be careful. We can stay if we want.”

Lance punched his fist up in the air, already ready to move on. “Nice! It should be clear tonight. Plus it’s the new moon.”

Pidge squinted at Keith’s face, which was a little too far away to see clearly without their glasses. “You were on the phone for 20 minutes just for a wildlife update?”

He shifted his weight to the other leg. “Shiro was worried, I had to talk him down out coming early. We’ll be fine.”

Hunk pushed the plate towards Keith. “Then sit down and eat so we can get the day going, Lance has been dying to hike down to the river ever since we passed it.”

“Nah nah,” Lance said, dragging out his words. “We gotta work up a sweat before we go swimming, the day is still young! I did see a sad looking volleyball net a campsite over though.” He looked at Keith, smile turning wicked. “Up for some friendly competition?”

Keith grinned back, “Is it really a competition if we both know you’re going to lose?”

“ _Hey,_ meet me in the court, Kogane. I call Pidge on my team!”

Hunk turned and gave Pidge an unimpressed look. “They’re definitely made for each other."

 

* * *

 

By the time dusk rolled around, Hunk and Keith had finished setting up two telescopes, and had dragged out the battery packs for them. Lance had thrown everyone a blanket, and moved their chairs sadly away from the warmth of the fire, and set up as close to the rock wall as they could. Hunk equipped everyone with a thermos full of coffee, and Keith dug out red-light flashlights and headlamps, courtesy of Professor Holt. Pidge smiled, claiming the green strap.

The last of the sunset faded, and Pidge was busy preparing their tablet for a long night of stargazing, setting up a planetarium software that would help them map out what constellations and planets near them, implementing a red-screen mode so their eyes wouldn’t have to readjust every time they looked at it.

Pidge bundled themself up with the blanket and claimed a chair in-between Hunk and Keith, putting the glow of the fire behind them.

“What program is that?” Hunk asked, watching them scroll through a list of constellations.

“Something my mom made for us when Matt and I were kids,” they explained, smiling softly. He was looking at them, earnest and interested, and with everything they had talked about last night, Pidge wanted to be open and honest too.

“When we were younger, we would go on the roof as a family and my dad would have these star charts that we would use to map the sky, and he would explain planets and black holes to us. When he went on business trips, mom hated using the charts, so instead she programmed a website for us to use instead.”

Hunk burst out laughing. “Programming something out of spite is my favorite type of programming.”

“I know, Dad was kinda pissed that he hadn’t thought of it first.”

Hunk snorted. “His loss.”

Pidge shrugged, flicking through the main menu absently. “I am... sad, that Matt isn’t here until Friday, we haven’t done this since I was like, a freshman in high school or something.”

“It’s no wonder you’re both into space though. Wait, hold on.” He pointed at the tablet. “It can automatically track constellations?”

“Can it track constellations, he asks,” Pidge scoffed. “Go on and pick your favorite.”

He hums, but he answers almost immediately. “Lyra.”

Pidge smiles. “Okay, but you probably don't need this to find it because--”

“--because Vega is one of the brightest stars.” He says it with them, already laughing a bit. “Yeah I know, it’s part of the summer triangle.”

Pidge pulls it up, where the night sky on the screen blinks once and the night sky overhead is pulled up. Sure enough, they pointed up, and together Hunk and Pidge craned their heads back. Hunk found Lyra first, and wordlessly pointed, a small smile on his face.

Pidge couldn’t help it honestly. They scooted their chair as close to his as possible, and looked up with him at the sky, face squished against his shoulder. “Why is Lyra your favorite?” They asked eventually. To their right, Keith and Lance were laughing over something, taking turns looking through the telescope.

“It’s unassuming,” he said slowly, a rehearsed answer, but one he seemed to be guarded about. “It doesn’t have the most well known myth attached to it, it’s not attached to a zodiac sign, and you can’t see it all year long-- but man, to the people that know it, it’s one of the most interesting constellations out there.”

“There’s more to it than just Vega, right?” They prompted. Pidge already had a feeling about what he was going to talk about, but wanted him to explain anyway. Hunk was doing that thing they liked: he was getting passionate with them, opening up about his interests, and his eyes were lighting up like the stars he secretly loved so much.

“Yeah, but I--” he stopped suddenly, the enthusiasm dampening, with a thousand different emotions crossing his face but he wasn’t breaking eye contact.

“What is it?” Pidge asked, more than a little confused.

“I’m just…” Hunk look conflicted, and Pidge could feel the tension between them brewing like a storm cloud, dark and scared and electric. He was so close to them, deep brown eyes open and vulnerable and tinged red from the dull light of their tablet.

“I wasn’t ready for a relationship,” was the first thing he said, and Pidge’s heart slammed into their throat. It was typical of him to start like this-- he needed to state all the facts first.

“I needed to be happy with myself and my body first, I didn’t want to rely on someone else for my self-esteem-- but seeing Keith and Lance, being here with you… I think it would be nice to have someone to share things with.”

_Pidge.exe has stopped running. Would you like to restart the program?_

“Hunk… do you-- would you like to…?” Pidge could barely breathe, the entire world was narrowed down to the tightness in their chest and the hopeful look in his eyes.

“Do you guys hear that?” Pidge jumped back, and saw that Keith was standing, staring off into the forest behind them. It would’ve been fine, but something in Keith’s voice crackled through the air, and then Pidge heard them then-- coyotes, a pack of them, yapping and howling, and their cries echoed hauntingly through the still night air.

“What do you think is setting them off?” Lance asked, tense that Keith was tense, and before anyone could answer, they stopped.

Nobody breathed for a moment, and Pidge was reminded that they didn’t even have the moon to see by, just the stars. Their white-light flashlights were packed away in the truck.

There was a long, drawn out howl.

“A wolf,” said Keith immediately, and then after a moment: “There’s no returning call, its alone.” The weight of the words seemed to affect him, and the tension in the air grew. He breathed out once, then twice, and pulled a hunting knife from his belt. “It’s the wolf Shiro called about. And its close.”

Lance recoiled at the knife, and Hunk stood up then, worry imbedded in his voice. “Do you think we’re in danger?”

Keith didn’t seem to even hear him, thinking out loud, voice harsh in the darkness. “I thought we would be okay, this isn’t the pattern they’ve taken before, they weren’t even in this _state_ \--”

“They? What are you talking about, exactly how many fucking wolves are there out here?” Lance was concerned-- but the bite to his voice showed that he was done with Keith’s bullshit. “What aren’t you telling us?”

Pidge had never seen Keith like this. He scanned the dark forest in front of them, and at first glance he looked determined, but Pidge saw that he was desperate, the wild look in his eyes edging closer to panic. Everyone sensed it too, the sour tinge of fear spreading like a disease.

If Keith was afraid, they all were.

“Lance…” Keith’s voice was dangerously soft. “I think it might be hunting us.”

There was another long howl, and it only took a second before Keith was running towards the truck. Pidge doesn’t question it before they were running too. The three of them surrounded Keith as he threw a long lockbox out of the truck, and scrambled for the lock. He threw the box open to reveal a disassembled shotgun and a small arsenal of hunting knives.

Pidge reached out to the side blindly, looking for reassurance, and Hunk leaned into their touch. “Why would it be hunting us,” he asked Keith, ever rational. “Wolves rarely attack humans, and it has miles of forest full of other tasty, little animals. I know you’re Ranger Rick and all that but this is ridiculous.”

“Listen, you’re gonna have to trust me, this is no ordinary wolf.” Keith starts clicking pieces together with startling efficiency, half blind in the dark.

“Come on Mulder,” Pidge said, desperately trying to make sense of what he was saying. “You’re not actually gonna go X-files on us and tell me thats a werewolf or monster or something.”

“It’s a werewolf,” Keith said, locking the barrel into place. “It’s literally my job to hunt them.”

“No.” Lance said firmly, “No, no, your _part time job_ is with Fish and Wildlife.”

Keith flinched, shoulders hunching as he stands. “It’s also to hunt werewolves. And technically, I don’t get paid.” He looked at Pidge and Hunk, and jerked his head towards his truck. “Get in, we’ll be safest there.”

Pidge all but dragged Hunk, as he seemed to take all of that in by freezing in place. They spilled into the backseat, and held each other, listening as Lance swears, in Spanish, in one long breath. “You are seriously trying to convince me that my boyfriend is a pro bono monster hunter.”

Pidge leaned over Hunk to look out the window, and saw Keith take a step back, looking a little lost, shotgun in hand. “I mean, this isn’t how I wanted to tell you, and it _is_ through Fish and Wildlife since I got it through the Criminology career advisor--”

Lance held up his hand, looking even more furious. “You hunt werewolves for _internship credit?”_

“Lance. Please. Get in the car.”

Lance marched past him, and climbed in the passenger’s side in front of Pidge, slamming the door. Keith took the driver’s side, his shotgun awkwardly tucked against his shoulder, towards the floor. He flicked on the battery and turned the headlights on, the light stretching out to the edge of the trail road.

Their eyes adjusted to the light in front of them as they breathed.

Lance eventually sighed, voice losing all heat. “This better be a prank Kogane.”

“I wish it was,” Keith replied.

“So all your scars,” Lance said, staring at the dashboard. “And the bruises. They weren’t just from MMA.”

“No.”

There’s a moment of silence and then: “What are we doing?” Hunk asked, voice cracking. “We’re just sitting here, why aren’t we trying to escape?”

“I don’t want to put you in danger,” Keith said softly, “but Shiro is afraid that we have a mole in our organization. If my cover is blown, then they’re just going to follow me until they kill me. And if we go back to the city now, more people might be put in danger.”

“Wait. Shiro’s involved?” Pidge interjected at the same time that Lance asked “We have to kill that thing?”

_“I_ have to kill it,” Keith corrected him. “I already put all of you in danger just from being here. If I had known--”

“Guys,” Pidge felt the panic overcome Hunk like a wave, heart beating rapidly underneath their palm. “We haven’t heard it howl in a while.”

The silence in the truck threatened to consume them, the roar of blood in their ears the only thing that Pidge could hear.

“There,” Lance whispered. The truck headlights barely cut through the darkness, but on the edge of the light, there was a hazy figure, unmistakably canine. Before Keith could even lift the gun over the dashboard it was gone, melted back into the trees, out of the light’s reach.

Keith reached for the door handle right as Lance locked the doors.

“I don’t care what kind of self-sacrificial shit you have planned Keith but you are not leaving this car.” Lance hissed at him.

“You have to let me--”

“He’s taunting you,” Pidge said slowly. “He wanted you to see him so he could lure you out. It’s easier to catch you when you’re not in here.”

Keith processed this, and for a moment, all they do is breath together.

“Let’s think about this,” Lance said quietly. “Once he realizes that getting you to come out won’t work, he’s going to try different stuff. But he won’t put himself in range of the shotgun unless he knows he’s got an opening.”

Keith looked him for a long moment and nodded. “Yes, that’s...thats exactly it.” He turned away, back towards the window, thinking out loud. “He’s going to want to look for weaknesses, the places where it’s the hardest for me to shoot.”

_Like right behind you,_ Pidge thought, frowning. _But the truck is still pretty solid except--_

Pidge stared at Hunk, and then past him, at the left rear door. The one that was crumbled at the edges, dented from an accident years before. The seat right behind Keith’s.

They opened their mouth, and then everything happened in slow motion.

The figure that emerged from the forest was barely canine at all. It was broad, standing on two legs, all fur and teeth and claws as it lunged for the door, ripping it down and away in a collision that rocked the truck.

There was a ringing in their ears, their own voice muffled, and out of the slow symphony of sounds, the only clear thing was the inhuman scream they heard, high and sharp as it was paired with a wet crunch of bone, and Hunk was dragged out of the truck by his leg.

There were snapshots of clarity as Pidge scrambled to get out of the truck: Keith yelling to unlock the door, a hand pulling back on their sweatshirt as they dived across the backseat, and slipping as they do, hands covered in red, the sharp smell of copper, on their hands and knees.

It was too much, _too much_ because Hunk was a distorted heap on the ground and the wolf was there, right in front of them, blood on its muzzle and mouth opening wide--

There was an echoing _crack_ in the air, and Pidge fell back further into the truck as the wolf turned towards Keith, shoulder mangled, and Keith doesn’t miss his second shot--one to the throat at point-blank range. Keith was hanging half out the window, Lance clinging to his legs for balance, and the werewolf went down, a hole where it’s windpipe should be.

“ _Hunk!”_


	2. Hunk

A distant door closed with a heavy thud, and Hunk woke up with it echoing in his ears, a crick in his neck and cold adrenaline racing down his back. His tongue was heavy in his mouth, and his nose burned from the sickeningly sterile smell of disease and recycled air.

His gut wrenched and Hunk was hit with flashes of memory, doing homework from the side of a hospital bed, his aunt helping him when she had the energy. His mood soured. _Fuck_ did he hate being in the hospital.

But the sinking feeling didn’t go away as Hunk stared blearily up at the dark ceiling, the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor next to him only cementing that this was _real_ , and panic bubbled up from his throat.

_Why was he in the hospital?_

He looked down at his body, something primal telling him that his legs were _wrong_ , they were supposed to be _wrong,_ but when he pulled back the sheet he was fine. He flexed the muscles, wiggled his toes. All working, but the closer he looked, the stronger the memory of torn flesh became.

He yanked the sheet back down, and let his head fall back against the pillows, pointedly staring back up at the ceiling. _What happened?_

Things came back scattered, and out of order, but in a sudden burst, and he was paralyzed with the knowledge that the last thing he remembered was pain. It was a cold, nauseous fear that he shouldn’t be alive, followed quickly by the thought that his _friends_ might not be alive, _Pidge might not be alive,_ and he came to the realization that he was very, painfully, alone.

Hunk tried to gather current facts. He was in a hospital bed, in the dark, alone. It was a private room, which he _definitely_ couldn’t afford, but someone had to have brought him here. It was possible that his friends had their own rooms, or that they were dealing with the repercussions of a _werewolf attack_.

It was also equal possible, if not more likely, that at least one of them was injured or dead.

Hunk was faintly aware that the heart monitor registered the spike in his pulse, and he fumbled in the faint light of the machines for at least some way to page a nurse. Hospitals still had pagers right?

Through the pounding in his ears he heard footsteps outside of the room and it made him focus, hard, eyes glazing over as he turned his head, tilting it, listening as they got closer. How far away had they been?

But the closer they got, the more anxious Hunk became, the fear and panic welling up and hardening in his chest, funneling down his spine.

He got out of bed, adrenaline making him steadier than he had any right to be, and he shifted into a fighter's stance in just his hospital gown, pressing one hand into the IV in his forearm, keeping it secure. The logical part of him repeated that it was probably just a nurse, and that he was overreacting, but he still felt vulnerable and dangerous at the same time, a cocktail mix of emotions and sudden knowledge that he shouldn’t have.

The woman-- _how did he know it was a woman?--_ stopped outside of his door. She had only opened it a crack before Hunk opened his mouth, and the voice inside his head said _stay out_ but his throat constricted in a way that was almost _painful,_ and he _growled_ instead, low and wet.

She paused, but only for a second. She stepped into the room, but left the door open, stepping to the side of the exit. The lights were still off, so half of her was still cast in shadow, despite the light spilling in from the hallway. She was tall, the same height as him, with long white hair swept into a complicated bun. She wore pink scrubs to put people at ease, and a serious expression to pin people in place, dissecting them with her eyes.

Hunk didn’t move, his lip curled up into a snarl. “You’re like him.” He said, _thankfully_ said, but his voice wasn’t quite right to his ears, but at this point it was the least of his concerns when there was _another werewolf in front of him_. “What did you do to my friends?”

“I am like him,” she said, voice clear and loud, intertwined with an accent he couldn’t place. “But I am also like you. I am not going to hurt you Hunk. Your friends are safe, and you will see them soon, but I need you to do something for me first.”

“Oh come on lady,” there was a part of Hunk that was still on edge, a part that screamed that she was dangerous, than he was too vulnerable, too injured-- but Hunk, _Hunk_ had had a _really bad day_.

“Don’t start talking in riddles okay, this is not some fucking fairy tale,” Hunk was on a tangent as he stood up to his full height and gripped onto his IV pole like a crutch. “I was mauled by a werewolf, I just _growled_ at you. I am _not stupid.”_ He took a step forward, and she narrowed her eyes.

“I am trying to help you,” She said, words sharp and pointed. “I was going to tell you to stand down. You’re making every werewolf in the hospital antsy being so aggressive”

“Me? Aggressive?” Hunk’s voice rose an octave, “Nah nah nah nope nooooo I’m not aggressive. You know, I’m just--” _scared “--a flesh eating monster_ , no no big deal. Now if you’ll excuse me Miss Werewolf,” Hunk shook his IV pole in her direction, “I am going to find my friends and if you aren’t going to hurt me then leave me the _fuck_ alone.”

He took a few steps forward, but the woman took one step to the side, blocking the doorway. A cold rush ran up the back of his neck, and he -- _the wolf--_ snarled at her. She didn’t flinch. “My name is Allura, I am the head of the pack here, and I was _trying_ to be diplomatic, but you are barely in control of yourself.”

“Diplomatic, _right.”_ He said, stretching the word out. “I haven’t even heard an apology. Jesus, can I sue you people? Is that a thing I can do in your world? Because someone attacked us and put a hole in my leg--” flashes of memory passed in front of his eyes and Hunk squeezed them shut, fighting through the nausea. “I think I’m either going to throw up on you or fight you but either way I’m getting out of this room.”

Allura stared at him-- _has she even blinked this entire time?--_ and then abruptly sighed, turning to rub at her temples. The tension diffused all at once, and Hunk felt the, _the wolf_ relax, unfurling the weight from his chest and the back of his skull. He felt lighter, more clear headed, and Allura turned and left the room gesturing him to follow. “At least let me escort you and have my associates find you clothes. I’ll explain the situation when you’re all together.”

“The situation where you attacked Keith and three innocent humans, yeah, how’s _that_ working out for you?”

She barely glanced at him, leading him down the empty hallway. “Keith is our ally, he always has been, but the situation is more complicated than you realize. Please wait here.”

She opened a door to their right and stuck her head in. Hunk could hear a man inside rolling across the room in a rolling chair. _Another one._ “Coran? Could you get Mr. Garrett the standard shifting outfit, I thought we had plenty stocked here.”

“I’ve got it right here!” The man cheerfully replied rolling in a different direction. “Plain sweatpants, underwear and t-shirt for the big guy, but I tried to find some colors to raise the ol’ spirits. What do you think he would like better, lime-green or yellow?”

“Um,” Allura glanced back and Hunk shrugged. “Yellow works, thank you Coran.”

She took the clothes and placed them on an empty nurses station across the hall. “Here,” she said, gesturing to his IV with one hand and pulling out a bandaid and swabs from her pockets with the other. “Let me take that out, your new found healing abilities have kicked in, but this still might be tender anyway.” She went to work detaching him from the drip bag and explained as she went. “You heal at a faster pace, which is why you are recovered from your… incident….and in his case, in better light, you’ll most likely find that you have a scar on your thigh from where you were bitten, this is common, and if you want we have a specialist that would be able to tattoo over it free of charge if you choose to do so. Regardless, your body can’t use what isn’t there, and you must take care of yourself even more so now, including staying hydrated.” She patted his forearm absently. “There. You can get changed now.”

Hunk started to pull away but Allura didn’t let go. She was staring off to the side, a distant look on her face. “For what it’s worth,” She murmured, “I am sorry that this happened to you. I am going to do whatever I can to--” She stopped. “Nothing can make this right, but I am going to make it easier. I promise.”

Hunk believed her.

When he finished changing in an empty room, Allura led him down more hallways and stairs, most with little staff and minimal lighting.

“Where is everybody anyway?” he asked. “This is kinda spooky.”

“It is very early in the morning,” she admitted. “It is almost 5 am. Plus it is a small hospital anyway. We have the wing you were in reserved for, uh, _special patients_ , like yourself, but I have your friends in my office near the lobby, they escaped with very minor injuries.”

Allura stopped in front of a door, neatly labeled “Dr. Arus.”

Hunk breathed out, and rubbed the back of his head as she opened it and led him inside. “That’s nice but I really don’t think I can believe it til I see--”

He felt it in his body before his eyes even registered it, and while it startled him, Pidge and Lance flying towards him apparently didn’t set off any wolf reflexes, and he was helplessly tackled.

He clung to them right back, and felt himself tearing up almost immediately as they babbled and talked over each other.

“We were so worried--”

“I thought you were _dead--”_

“Are you okay--”

“We’re never going to get the blood out of Keith’s truck--”

Hunk barked a laugh, forcing past the lump in his throat. “I’m okay. We’re okay. We’re alive.” He looked past Lance’s shoulder and met Keith’s eyes, the man only a few feet away, but giving off waves of uncertainty.

“Come ‘ere,” He said, and was surprised how fast Keith joined, pressing close together in the tangle of bodies. “We’re alive.” He repeated, softer this time. “We made it.”

Pidge tucked their head into his chest and Hunk felt tears start to leak through his shirt, and Lance had slotted himself into his shoulder and started shaking, and Keith made up the hazy space in the middle, made up of too much tension and misty eyes and Hunk hugged them all closer in the privacy of Allura’s office, and finally allowed himself to cry.

* * *

Allura had sat at her desk and sorted through paperwork to give them some semblance of privacy. After a while of this, a man--Hunk realized it after a moment that it must’ve been Coran-- knocked softly and entered, glancing from their group hug to Allura, and leaned against the desk to whisper to her.

It jarred them enough to move again. “I’m sorry,” Keith said, head tucked under Hunk’s chin and curled in Lance’s direction. “I should’ve listened to you and run away, if I had--”

“We don’t know what would’ve happened.” Hunk murmured back. He tried to make his voice lighter: “As long as you don’t need to hunt me--”

“I would _never_ ,” Keith tensed, his voice choked up from crying. “I am the reason you’re--”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Hunk said firmly. The four of them started to detangle, giving some breathing room, but not much. Pidge was tucked under one of his arms, abnormally quiet. Lance held his hand and Keith's at the same time, equally resistant to letting them go. Hunk put on a brave face. “Listen, it’ll be okay. It won’t be that bad, I’m still me. I just need like, a user manual to wolves or something.”

There was a cough, and Coran had drawn himself to his full height. “If you’ll allow me too, I think I have just the solution.”

At that, Pidge stirred and gave him a hopeful look. “You actually have a user’s manual? With detailed instructions?”

Lance gave a soft sigh and smashed his face into Hunk’s shoulder. “God you guys are so nerdy.”

“No!” Coran said cheerily, now that he had their full attention. “I have something better!”

Behind him, at her desk, Allura put her head in her hands.

Coran started digging through a filing cabinet, chatting as he went. Looking closer, Hunk could see that his blue scrubs had little orange puppies on them. “So, it’s unfinished! I’ve been working on this for a good while, and you, my young pup, will be the first I test it on!” He dug out a large think orange binder, neatly labeled TOP SECRET, and shoved it into Hunk’s hands, standing back with uncontained glee.

Hunk didn’t really know how to handle this. He opened it anyway, and his friends all peered down to see, in elegant script: _The History of the Cosmic Wolf: A Beginner’s Guide by Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe._

“It’s his manuscript,” Allura supplied helpfully, “Coran is a historian. Despite being on this planet for many generations, we don’t have a contained record of our people, or a way to really endocrine new members who hadn’t previously consented.”

Coran beamed. “Exactly! Of course you can always come to us with questions but we also know this is a hard journey--”

“Wait,” Lance interrupted, a little disbelieving. “What do you mean ‘on this planet?’”

Coran turned back to look at Allura, who took a breath, unsure of how to proceed. “I will explain everything in a moment,” she said finally. “When our last guest arrives.”

“And when is that?” Lance asked.

“Now.” Hunk said suddenly, hearing footsteps coming down the hall.

Everyone turned to look at him. He shrugged. “Wolf hearing? I’m still getting used to it.”

The person in question knocked on the door, and Coran opened it, and the last person Hunk expected walked through the door. “Shiro?”

Shiro’s took them all in as he shut the door behind them, and his voice was gentle and calm. “I’m glad to see that you’re all alright.”

“Like hell we are,” Pidge said, and Hunk realized it was the first thing they’d said in a long time. They squared their shoulders, and they barely hid how accusatory they sounded. “You were in on this too, with Keith. Does Matt know? Does Dad?”

Shiro rocked back a bit, mouth twisting down, and Hunk noticed the dark circles under his eyes. “Pidge you have to understand how complicated this is--”

“Who. Knows.”

Shiro paused for a heartbeat, before “Sam Holt is one of the human government contacts for the Southwestern US pack. So yes, he knows, but he really did retire and start to teach instead. And Allura was actually going to offer a job to Matt, and if he accepted we would tell him. We...we would’ve told you too, once you graduated.”

“Okay, this is _crazy_ ,” Lance said. Hunk had to agree. “You’re a monster hunter, like Keith? And don’t think I forgot about that planet thing either. What the _fuck_ is going on?”

“Lance--” Keith said, a little panicky. “Calm down. Please? And Shiro isn’t in the field anymore, he took over for Mr. Holt.”

Shiro and Pidge stared at each other, and Hunk saw Pidge shake their head, and look away.

Hunk tried to bring everyone back. “So, who...who attacked us?”

Allura stood then, and joined the group circle, frustrated, but bringing the energy of the room back onto her. “Sendak.”

Keith’s eyes narrowed. “Then the mole was--”

“Lotor. Yes.” Allura practically bit through the words.

“And the other Blades?” Keith asked.

“All accounted for,” Shiro replied, ‘Most escaped before they were even found, but a couple took down their attackers like you.”

“It was a planned attack?” Hunk was finding that it was harder to breathe.

“It was an attempted coup,” Allura said, voice dangerously low. “Lotor had the records of all human hunters in the Southwest. Many have to go into hiding until we can find Lotor and the other deserters.”

“And take them down you mean,” Keith clarified.

“They can not be allowed to build their numbers or gain a following.” Allura said, and Shiro nodded, building off of her. “Lotor has always wanted to increase our numbers in this area, and always voiced his annoyance at the red tape and of living in hiding. He knows full well that he will have government agents on his tail. The fact that he struck now means that might already have a cult following of people willing to be turned into werewolves, or else he wouldn’t have risked it.”  

Keith had grown more pale the longer Shiro talked. His eyes grew wide, and his voice, when he talked, was aimed at his friends, and heavy with the weight of the world. “I...This is bad. I dragged you all into something _bad. I’m so sorry._ ”

Hunk saw something in Lance’s face crumble. “Keith--”

Keith shook his head. “The phone call about the wolf? It was because Shiro was afraid we had a mole in our organization and didn’t like that someone was nearby.” Keith’s voice became thicker from emotion. “He was _right,_ and I should’ve listened.”

“No,” Pidge said, and it seemed to startle everyone, including themself. “It would’ve ruined the trip and you wouldn't been able to explain why, and no one would’ve thought that this would’ve happened. I understand.”

Lance was nodding furiously, hands gripping Keith’s. “I--I still love you and I forgive you for not telling me. And if you want, we can talk it all out later.”

“I don’t blame you either,” Hunk said, a little hesitantly, pretending not to see Keith sniffling. “I have no idea what’s going to happen next, but it’s not your fault.”

“What should happen next is that you should both be in safe houses,” Allura said. “Keith, you already know where to go, and Lance is welcome to join you. I can arrange to have groceries delivered. Hunk, I have a safe house for you as well. You’ll need to pack for at the most, a month.”

Hunk let out a strangled noise. _“A month?”_

“I can go with him.” Pidge chimed in immediately. “It’ll be lonely otherwise.”

“You’re going to need to gain control of your wolf form, regardless of when we capture Lotor. The house is equipped to help you through this journey.”

“What, I can be a wolf whenever I want?”

“Yes, we aren’t controlled by the lunar cycle, but some characteristics are influenced by it and other galactic phenomenon, like other planets, solar flares, eclipses and such.”

“Ok, that settles it. Aliens right?” Lance said suddenly, accusatory. “You guys are _aliens_.”

There were a few seconds of silence that followed, and Allura looked to Coran.

Coran fiddled with his mustache in what seemed to be a nervous tick. “Yes, we are a shape shifting race that took human appearances to blend in when we arrived. However, children that were produced had mutations to their shapeshifting forms-- you can read more about it in Chapter Two: the New Generation.” He coughed. “We still are trying to figure out why wolves and wolves only, but there are theories about how it has something to do with early human connections to them.”

“I hate this.” Pidge said and they took off their glasses to rub their eyes. “Everyone knows that one day we would find life in the universe, but apparently they’ve found us first, and have been here for actual fucking thousands of years, and the reason these legends fucking exist.”

“It is a lot to take in.” Allura admitted. “Especially under these unfortunately circumstances.”

“We should get going as soon as possible,” Shiro said gently. “We can find somewhere to eat before we start the drive back.” He winced then, and looked at Keith. “We can all fit in my truck… we’ll also put the repairs to your truck on the bill.”

“I can take your keys,” Coran said, holding out his hand to Keith. “We have a mechanic that can handle it while you’re in hiding.”  

“One last thing before you head out,” Allura said, and she reached into her desk, pulling out a stack of paper. “You need to sign these.”

“What are they?” Pidge asked suspiciously.

“Confidentiality agreements,” she replied. “Your government needs to know that you know, and needs to be assured that anything that happened won’t leave this room. Hunk, you are legally an adult, and it is up to you if you want to tell your parents or not, but rest assured that I will arrange for benefits to accommodate for your medical expenses and your new living space. No one will have to know if you don’t want them too.”

Hunk froze, heart sunk in his chest because _what the fuck was he going to tell his parents._ “I have to think about it,” he said instead.

“Of course,” She replied. “You have Coran’s book, and here is my card as well. Please text me with any questions you have. Additionally, here is the address to the safe house.” She handed a small folder over to him, with her business card tucked neatly in it.

“What about my summer job?” He asked, a little choked up. “I have an environmental engineering internship that starts next week.”

“If we haven’t found Lotor by then, I’ll take care of it.” She said. “Regardless, I think you underestimate the type of connections we have. You will have opportunities in the future.”

“That sounds a little vague and kinda of threatening,” Lance pointed out as he read over the paperwork. “We could sign these and agree to keep our mouths shut and then Hunk doesn’t get a single damn thing.”

“ _I’ll_ make sure that doesn’t happen--” Keith starts and Shiro cuts him off. “It won’t. We’ll fix this.”

“Fine,” Pidge said, before Hunk could even open his mouth. “But I still want to talk to Dad and Matt. I can drive Hunk to the safe house after he packs up.”

“Are you sure you don’t want back up?” Keith asked.

“It’s like--” Pidge checked their phone. “7:30 in the goddamn morning. No one’s gonna attack us in broad daylight. Let’s just get out of here and into the nearest diner so I can call my parents back.”

“Back?” Hunk asked gently.

“I have 10 missed calls.” Pidge’s voice was somewhat hollow, and Hunk didn’t push. He only reached out to squeeze their hand.

“Also, the cleanup crew is bringing all of your stuff from the campsite to the Holt’s. You can sort it out from there.” Shiro said.

No one knew quite what to say from there, as the reality of it-- and the lack of sleep-- sunk into their bones.

Hunk found himself signing the paperwork anyway, reading it as carefully as he could despite the words beginning to blur together. He wasn’t in pain per say-- but he was fighting sleep and an empty stomach and a massive headache.

By the time they found a diner and finished breakfast, the sun was high in the sky, dry summer heat making them drowsier. Hunk, normally hesitant about taking up too much room, was shoved in between Lance and Pidge in the backseat, almost guarded. He was silently grateful.

The four of them passed out as Shiro drove, Lance cradling the binder of information on his right, Keith’s feet up on the dash in shotgun, and Pidge under Hunk’s arm, protectively flanking his left.

They’d made it.

* * *

 

The car door slammed shut behind them, as Pidge and Hunk stood in front of Allura’s safehouse. It was a solid 40 minutes away from their university by car, and it was back into the mountains, on a hidden dirt road. It was a single story cabin, plain and unassuming. One of Allura’s people had gotten it ready while they had packed and had started a fire in the woodstove, so when they walked up the steps and unlocked the door, they were met with a rush of warm air, and the comforting glow of gas lamps lining the wall.

“It’s...nice,” Pidge said at last.

_Plain and barely furnished_ is what Hunk would’ve said. It came with all the sterile coldness of a hospital mixed with the forced cheeriness of a hotel.

“This…” It hit Hunk all at once then, the denial he’d been building since methodically packing his stuff, and the tired drive there. “I’m glad you came with me, but this isn’t how I pictured us moving in together.”

Hunk clamped his mouth shut, horrified at himself for saying that because there was still the glaringly obvious label that they _weren’t serious_ , but Pidge reached over and grabbed his hand, and everything else seemed to fade away. “I’m glad you thought of us moving in together at all.”

Hunk looked at them then, and saw Pidge’s eyes, hopeful in the warm light, and he felt his heart melt on the spot.  “Come on big guy,” they murmured, and he let himself be tugged down the hall, their suitcases and backpacks forgotten. “Allura’s men will drop groceries off in the morning. Let’s just find the bedroom, okay?”

“Mh-hmm,” Hunk realized how heavy his body felt then, left leg stiff and sore.

They found the master bedroom, and flicked on the lights, and Pidge abandoned him to jump and collapse into a fully made king sized bed.  Like the rest of the cabin, the bedroom had very little else in it, with only side table, a lamp, a mirror, and an empty closet. Off to the side, there was a sliding door which he assumed led to a bathroom.

Pidge looked at him from the bed with a smile, and made room for him, and he couldn't help but join them, sinking into the mattress with a painful groan, eyes screwing shut as he adjusts, trying to comfortably lay against the pillows.

“What a trade off,” He wheezed as Pidge slid next to him, putting their glasses on the bedside table. “I get a sort-of-furnished, rent free condo in the woods, and all I had to do was get mauled by an alien werewolf.”

“I think out of all of that, it’s the rent free condo that is the most unbelievable.” They teased back, gently reaching up to brush a piece of hair out of his eyes. “But we need to think of a game plan.”

“You can think,” he replied, “I’m gonna lay here and complain.”

Pidge pouted and Hunk knew it was coming, and grinned as they flicked him on the forehead. “We made it this far asshole, we’re a team and we’re gonna figure this out.”

“Are we a team?” Hunk said then, and a million different emotions passed over his heart, before ending on fear, as it _always_ seemed to do. “I’m afraid to be alone, but I have to give you this last chance to get out too. You don’t have to stay.” He was brutally honest with them, because he knew they would understand.

Pidge turned on their side to look at him directly, and Hunk did the same, reminded of their night in the tent. They were giving him the look, one that he knew meant: _I’ll humor you but you’re wrong._ “What are you trying to save me from exactly?”

Hunk felt a tightness in his chest, a heavy reminder that the two of them had started something so many weeks ago and that if it was going to stop it had to stop _now._ “Commitment. Me. The fact that— that this isn’t exactly casual anymore. And I’m, I’m going to be a _monster_ , I could hurt you.”

The moment it left his mouth Hunk felt his pulse spike-- he didn’t want to be alone, he had known that, but the moment he saw Pidge’s face fall he figured out that it wasn’t that he didn’t want to be alone, it was that he didn’t want to be _without Pidge._

Pidge, after a moment, closed the space between them, and pressed their forehead to his. “I thought we were going to die.” They said, and they were so beautiful Hunk could barely breathe, hanging onto every word they said. “I thought you were going to die. And I was furious, because right before the wolf crashed the party, I was about to ask you out on a date, a real one. And I didn’t drive all the way out here just for you to try and push me away."

Hunk curled his arm around their waist, and let himself fall. “If you chose to be with me, despite everything, I’ll chose to be with you, despite everything.”

They kissed him, softly, one hand reaching up to cup his jaw. “Hunk. Will you go out with me?”

“ _Fuck_ yes,” it was a little too loud for their shared space, and Hunk blushed, lowering his voice. “Man, we’ve really done everything backwards haven’t we?”

Pidge huffed a laugh in agreement, but they made eye contact, and something snapped between them, and the two of them started giggling, hands clinging to each other, and Hunk felt lighter than he had in what felt like _days_.

Pidge kissed him, still laughing, open mouthed and happy, and Hunk wiggled his other arm under them and crushed them close to his chest, a tangle of limbs and haphazard kisses.

He didn’t know who deepened the kisses first, who slowed down their energy to a warm crawl, a push-pull of energy that was familiar but now profoundly _different._

Pidge, bold as ever, his _partner_ now, in _everything_ , broke it off first, slightly out of breath. “Do you want to?”

Hunk centered himself for a moment, remembering how agitated he was in the hospital. “I-- I don’t know, the wolf part is still so new.”

“I trust you, but if you aren’t comfortable we don’t have too.”

“No- I,” Hunk took a second to make a decision, a little flustered at his own eagerness, burying his face in the crook of their neck. “Can we try? Better now than never I guess?” He made his tone lighter.

“I mean,” Pidge hummed then, teasing, bouncing off of his good mood. “That collar we tried is a little more appropriate now.”

Hunk blushed, a memory flashing back to Pidge’s bedroom a two weeks ago. “A little too soon,” he wheezed. “Save the dog jokes for later.”

“Plain and simple?” They asked, clarifying, and Hunk breathed out, kissing down their jaw. “Plain and simple for now. There’s already a weird personality shift going on with wolf instincts, I’d rather stay in my own head."

“You’re still you y’know,” Pidge said, petting his hair as he pressed teasing bites to their collarbone. “People change, this is just a little more drastic of a change."

“Primal,” he muttered, bringing his face back up for a kiss. “Like how I _really_ like your neck now for some reason.”

“Hot,” was the reply, and Pidge laughed at the face he pulled.

“It feels more creepy than hot,” he complained, but Pidge leaned back out of his embrace and rolled off the bed. Hunk whined at the loss of warmth, but his mouth clicked shut as Pidge peeled their shirt off over their head, followed by their binder. They grinned, cheeks flushed and a mean gleam in their eyes as they tugged the waistline of their jeans down a couple inches. “Are you still interested in the rest of me?”

“No,” he said, deadpan, sliding out of bed towards them. They were only 4 feet away, but something in his blood was singing, and he was pulled towards them like a magnet.

Pidge however, broke that siren song by laughing at him, gesturing to his hard-on. He gave them a look, amused, and then urge to _touch_ , to _claim_ spread across his skin like lightening. But Pidge touched him first, palming his dick through his pants and laughing. “Really? You’re this worked up? I’m not even naked.”

Hunk would admit that his knees went a little weak, but he wasn’t about to be undone, happily palming their butt and closing the gap between them, the competitive streak in him shining through in a cheeky grin. “You should be though.”

“So should you.”

“I see we are at an impasse then,” he said, and his hands drifted to the front of their jeans, undoing the button. “Let’s change that.”

Pidge squirmed but laughed, helping him take off their pants and boxers. “That’s cheating, you have to too Hunk, I’m cold, _let’s go_.”

Hunk, while worried about the new wolfy traits, was also somewhat at the mercy of his impulses, and lifted Pidge up by the waist, who squeaked, but wrapped their legs around him anyway and let themselves be carried the few steps back to bed.

“Asshole,” they said under him, kissing his nose. “Still-fully-dressed asshole.”

_“ Fine,”_ Hunk let out a dramatic sigh and leaned up, taking his shirt off. “Happy?”

“No,” Pidge’s hands were _cold_ where they pressed against his stomach, slipping down the front of his sweatpants. “Show me that dick.”

“Ok ok hold on.” he stood up again, and kicked his clothes off. “Damn you’re right it’s cold.”

When he looked at them again, the smile had been wiped from their face, replaced by something distant and unreadable, eyes wide, staring to his lower right.

“Pidge?”

Their eyes snapped back to his, and they gave a small smile. “Sorry, sorry. I just. Your leg…”

When he looked, he remembered Allura’s hurried comments about tattoo artists and scars. Distantly, like he was in a dream, he observed that the tattoo would have to take up his entire upper thigh. A off-color series of gashes took up his left leg from his knee to his hip, deep lines of memory that made his stomach heave, and he looked at Pidge, whose face was far away again, somewhere just as painful that he couldn’t go.

Hunk crawled back to them, kissing their forehead softly. “Hey, I’m here, it’s okay.”

They tangled themselves back together, and Pidge curled up against his chest, the warmth of their body familiar.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked.

Pidge sighed. “Probably. I definitely can’t tell my therapist about this one.”

“Allura is probably going to show up tomorrow with one for me,” Hunk replied, “That woman doesn’t seem to miss much.”

“Except a mole,” Pidge said bitterly, before calming down. “Everyone missed him, including Shiro, including my dad… but if I ever meet the guy he’s going to get punched in the face.”

“I would pay good money to see that,” Hunk said dryly.

There was a moment of silence, where Hunk ran his hand through their hair, and waited for Pidge to talk. When they did, it was factual-- a non-emotional explanation in a raw emotional throat, tears choked back. “I saw bone. And blood. We had to carry you back to the truck. I held your head in my lap. I stared at you for over an hour while we drove, afraid that you would stop breathing.”

Pidge took a breath, inhale shakey, and Hunk held them tighter.

“I heard you scream.” They whispered into his chest, hand over his heart. “I still hear it.”

Hunk swallowed, holding back his own tears. “What do you need right now?”

“You. Still. I want you.” They picked their head up to look at him, to let him know they were serious, but he still had to ask.

“Are you sure?”

Pidge leaned forward and pressed their foreheads together, dragging their hand up his chest. “Just let--just let me hold you.”

“Okay,” he said as his nose brushed against theirs, and it felt like a promise, like something more augmented than just a simple response to a simple request. “I can do that.”

Pidge kissed him, and he melted into it. There was something in the way they moved, in the way they pushed, that was a little more desperate, and Hunk used that momentum to flip them over, putting himself on top.

They just clung to him, strong thighs wrapped around his hips, insistent arms pulling him down for kisses, a clashing of mouths and teeth that was almost animalistic.

“Hey, shh,” Hunk said against their lips, “Its-”

Pidge pulled at his hair, and he groaned, interrupted, grinding his cock into their stomach.

“It’s okay,” he tried again, gasping a little. “We’re alive Pidge, we’re okay.”

“I know, I know,” they said, and Hunk looked down at them, the hot flush that spread from their face down their chest, their eyes dark and wild and full of something emotional and hard-- the possessiveness that comes from a place of concern, that comes from a place of love.

It was intense, and _very_ attractive on them, and way too involved in near death experiences.

_Do you really want to cope like this?_ He wanted to ask, and something in him, something softer, tried to slow down the feverish rush that had been building. When he kissed them again it was _deliberately_ slow, arms wrapped around them, pressing his body against theirs.

Slow had always been difficult with Pidge however, because they just kept _touching him_ . They told him with their hands and thighs and lips that they were _okay_ . They pressed all of the buttons that drove him crazy, that made him melt and want to fall to his knees and beg _filthy pretty_ things into their thighs.

He shifted to the side instead, pressing his scarred leg into the sheets, and one hand on their hip, keeping them on their back.

“No fair, I can’t touch you as much.” Pidge narrowed their eyes, trying to look intimidating even as they wove their hands into his hair, body tense as his hand drifted over their lower stomach, large and _so close_ and _frustratingly slow_.

“Too bad.” He said simply as he kissed his way down their neck, taking every ounce of self control not to bite down. There was a possessiveness that hadn’t been there before, and he wasn’t sure if it was the wolf or the fact that they were actually, really, together as a unit.

“Hunk,” It was getting harder to remember what ‘plain and simple’ looked like, especially when Pidge said his name _like that_ : mouth full of promises and tone full of threats.

He continued hiding in the warm crook of their neck, and slid his hand down, palm grinding against their clit, fingers teasing. “Let me take care of you,” he countered, and jumped when they clawed down his chest, whether out of displeasure or because he started grinding slow circles on their clit he wasn’t sure.

The hand in his hair _pulled_ and warmth burned through him like a wildfire, and he _whined_ , subspace creeping up on him and crashing into him like a wave, and his hand fumbled for a second, adjusting, before he broke and sunk two fingers into them.

Pidge’s back arched, nails digging into his scalp and Hunk swore. They were wet and hot and grinding on his hand and Hunk’s mouth _watered_.

He pulled his head up to look at them, and it must’ve been written all over his face because they grinned, tugging his face closer and kissing the corner of his mouth.

“What happened to plain and simple?” They teased.

“Miss you too much,” he said, and it was the truth. “I was trying to go slow but you just make me fall apart.”

“You wanna be good for me?” It was playful and a little mean and so affectionate he practically melted, kissing them as he rolled his wrist, curling his fingers deep in a way that made them gasp against his lips. He wanted to drag that sound out of them over and over again because they were _alive_ and they were _his_ and if he thought about it too long he was just gonna start kissing them and never stop.

Instead he moved, carefully slotting himself in between their legs. He kissed one of their thighs and pressed his cheek to it, looking up at them with wide eyes (knowing full well Pidge loved it when he did that), and kept his fingers moving in small motions as they buried a hand into his hair, petting him. He let himself slip further then, embracing subspace with a hum.

His whole body was throbbing, electric hot, and he waited for permission to go down on them, slightly breathless, only a few inches away. Pidge was staring at him, fingers tracing idle patterns on his scalp, and a absolutely _wicked_ smile spread across their face.

They reached down with their other hand to play with their clit, starting off slow, and Hunk whined as he watched, a little unsure of himself as they threw their head back onto the pillows and took their hand out of his hair. His hand faltered to a stop, unsure if they wanted to take over, but Pidge made it clear, voice breaking the heated silence. “I don’t remember saying you could stop.”

Hunk shuddered, sweat breaking out on his skin, and he started moving his wrist again, fingers fucking into them and curling deep, and he got to see Pidge _shake_ at that, their own fingers moving faster. Pidge touched themself on fully display, but at the same time _ignoring him_ fully, just using his fingers to get off and he _still couldn’t taste them._

Hunk watched Pidge get closer and closer, absently rocking his hips in little movements trying to get any friction he could, driving himself a little crazy. Abruptly, they ripped their hand away from their clit, too close to coming apparently and he slowed down as well -- but didn’t stop-- a little too hopeful and eager.

Pidge grinned down at him, sweat making their hair stick to their temples, and they reached down, stinking the two fingers that had just at their clit in his face, letting him suck on them. Hunk’s eyes slipped closed, he couldn’t help it, the light taste of Pidge on their fingers making him drool a little, absolutely prepared to beg but not at all ready to let go of their fingers either.

The decision was made for him, and Pidge pulled their hand back, laughing at his expression. “You want something puppy?’

Hunk blushed, a little surprised, and he saw that Pidge did too, their already flushed face getting redder. “Sorry, it slipped out. Too much?”

Hunk wasn’t usually too vocal when worked up, but he took a mental step back, blinking. “N-no.” He was a little surprised to find that he liked it, but it was also _Pidge_ and it was a pet name _for him_ from Pidge, and it made him feel eager and loved.

“It’s ‘kay.” He said, finding his words. “I like it, really.”

“You sure you don’t wanna talk about it?”

They’d discussed the possibility of petplay before, so it wasn’t a _complete_ surprise, but he made a mental note to talk about it and analyze how it crossed with his newfound identity as a werewolf later.

Plus, he really _really_ didn’t want to stop right now.

“Later. I- I just want to make you feel good now. Please?” It was a little bit jumbled, half-mumbled into their thigh, but Hunk made a point of curling his fingers _hard_ inside of them, making Pidge tense.

Pidge hesitated, a hand coming down brush the hair out of his eyes, and then moving further, combing into his hair. “Whatever you want puppy.” Pidge was smiling again, warm and kind, before something in them switched and they _yanked_ at his hair, pulling him closer to their crotch. “I think you earned your treat anyway.”

The flush of embarrassment that creeped down his spine morphed into utter _shamelessness_ because _finally._  He tuned everything else out, falling into his own focused trance of pushing and licking and more than likely drooling because he was _absolutely_ in his favorite place on earth. He lapped at them, their thighs twitching and tense around his shoulders, hand’s digging into his hair at a particularly hard trust with his fingers, and he added one automatically, drawing fucked out snippets of praise out of Pidge.

He was keyed up, flushed feverishly hot, and when Pidge tensed and _screamed_ he was out of his damn mind, working them through it with almost practiced ease as their hands flew up to clutch mindlessly at the pillows.

He wasn’t really paying attention, comfortably floating and happily resting his head on their thigh, gentle now, and giving occasional teasing licks up their folds, making them twitch and _shake_ and if he was half convinced that if he had a tail it would be wagging.

Hunk felt their hand come back down to pet his head and he hummed, but Pidge then shot up in bed, a sense of urgency that did not mesh well with his current headspace, and he lifted his head with a whine. They were staring at him, eyes wide, and Hunk blinked, trying to figure out what the expression on their face was.

“What's wrong?”

Pidge opened their mouth, closed it, then opened it again, and Hunk realized with a small amount of distress that the same look from when they were trying to study a particularly fascinating project.

“Shh hey,” they said, tone reassuring. “I don’t think anything’s wrong.” They ran a hand through his hair, petting him. “You were so good for me, and so pretty. I just need to take a picture of you.”

Hunk let the praise wash over him, but a duality of suspicion and then self-consciousness broke through the layers in his head as Pidge got up to find their pants and their phone.

“Is that all?”

Pidge-- their hair had a life of its own, he noticed-- darted into the bathroom for a hand towel, bringing it with them back to bed, settling against the pillows once more. He was still covered in cum he realized absently, face and fingers wet and messy and he blushed harder.

Pidge smiled, and it was a little strained. “I don’t want you to freak out and drop,” they said gently. “Trust me okay?”

Hunk, mind still spacey and not quite sure what to do with that because _of course_ he trusted Pidge, just ended up pouting in response, and then, _of course_ Pidge snapped a quick photo of that. “Come here puppy,” they said, after he had rubbed his face with the towel.

Hunk, followed the order, climbing closer to rest his head under their chest, flinging one arm around their hips, because _heck yeah_ it was cuddle time. Faintly, like almost in a dream, he saw his own arm and noticed that something seemed _different,_ but he couldn’t quite figure out what.

“Hunk,” Pidge said, voice careful. “Remember that I’m here, and that we’re okay.”

Hunk _definitely_ didn’t know what to say to that. “Okay?”  

Pidge’s phone was suddenly in front of his nose, and he blinked, slowly processing that the picture was in fact, a pouty fucked out version of him, but that it was also in fact _not right._ It clicked in his mind that his arm was _fuzzier._ The him in the picture was _fuzzier_ . The naturally dark hair on his arms and back was thicker somehow, coarser, a deep brown, and his ears in the photo were pointer, longer, like old fashioned elves. The greatest difference however were his _eyes_ \-- once a dark brown now a golden yellow.

Pidge tossed their phone to the side, and wrapped their arms around him, and Hunk hovered over them on the bed, still in shock. “I-- didn’t, I didn’t even notice.”

“Hey,” They said firmly, hands a little flighty on his skin-- a nervous tick of theirs as they expected some sort of fallout. Their hands landed on his face, cupping his cheeks. “This isn’t going to change us you know. You’re still handsome to me.”

Hunk, a little overwhelmed, tried to sort out his feelings into some order of order. “...not a monster?”

_“Never.”_

They said it with such intensity that Hunk forgot completely what he was going to say next, and just leaned down to kiss them instead. It was soft, _tender_ even, and he smiled when their hands finally stopped, resting on his _much hairier_ shoulders. The feeling was strange, and a little sensitive, but not really _bad_ , and he knew that a reaction was probably going to hit him like a truck later, but right now, kissing his _partner_ , his _best friend?_ For once, he couldn’t find the energy to care.

“We’re going to be okay.” He said, forehead touching theirs.

“Do you still want to get off, or do you want to cuddle?”

Hunk blinked, cautious and a little hopeful. “...are you okay with the former?”

“Only if you’re okay with fucking me.”

Hunk stuck his face into their neck with a little laugh. “I fucking love you.”

“I love fucking you too,” Pidge teased, and in retaliation he nipped at their neck.

“You’re awful you know that?”

“Yeah,” Pidge sighed, and he raised his head to look at them.

“Yeah?”

Their hand came up and Pidge rubbed the back of his neck. “I do love you too.”

There was a pause, the weight of it settling into their skin, and Hunk grinned. “This is the weirdest confession of love ever right?”

“Definitely in the top ten I’m sure,” Pidge agreed, matching grin a little wicked. “I have to ask though…”

Hunk nodded, and their hand came up to playfully tug on his transformed ear. “Still want to be my puppy now that you got half the look down?”

“Honestly?” Hunk paused and blushed, caught between logic and horniess and some strange sense of identity. “It actually might help with it all?”

“ _Hell yes_ ,” Pidge responded, and their tone became a little more needy, a little less composed, pitched down and whispered like a dirty secret. “You don’t know how badly I wish you had that collar on right now so I could pull you down to kiss me.”

Hunk swallowed, the half-chub that he’d had for a while coming back to life. “Yeah?”

“Remember the color system, okay?”

He had barely nodded before Pidge tugged him down by his hair and met him halfway in a deceptively sweet kiss. “Always so good for me,” they said against his lips. “So eager to please aren’t you?” Hunk’s arms on the either side of their head began to tremble, and he was a little breathless and _definitely_ eager to see where exactly Pidge was going with this and hoping they would say more nasty sweet nothings to him.

“I’m yours,” he replied, and it was as automatic as the way his arms framed their head, the way their legs wrapped around his hips. He wanted to be close, to press their bodies together and be able to see their face.

“You’re mine.” Pidge echoed, and they moved fucking _sinfully_ underneath him, hips rolling up to grind against him, picture perfect and knowing _exactly_ what they were doing to him. “Do you want to fuck me?”

Hunk could barely breathe at this point. “ _Yes please_.”

“You’re going to have to ask a little nicer than that.”

_Fuck_ , Hunk dived deeper into his head at that, a little more flustered, a little more eager. Heat ran down his spine and he may have tucked his head into their neck to avoid looking at them, mumbling out his words through a thick tongue and cloudy head. “Please can I fuck you? Please?”

“There’s my good boy.”

Was he bigger? He felt bigger, like his arms caging their head seemed thicker, but there was nothing else really to focus on but Pidge, and they _keep looking at him like that_ and they were _petting him,_ and it was familiar and warm and safe and they were guiding his cock to them, their hand wedged between their bodies and _fuck_ everything about this was crazy and he couldn’t find it in himself to _care._

The moment he started to push inside Pidge stopped being able to form words, and it killed him every time at how fucking _incredible_ they looked for those precious few seconds. He pushed in slowly, already a little lightheaded.

They still recovered fast. “That’s it puppy, I want to feel all of you.” If the breathy tone of their voice, hadn’t given away how fucked out they felt, their nails digging into his chest would have.

_“ Pidge fuck,”_ he bottomed out, squeezing his eyes shut, and before he could even _think_ about moving, Pidge’s nails dug slightly deeper, near painful.

“Stay.” The command was whip sharp and Hunk _whined_ , a strange sound a little more animal than human, he waited on a knife's edge for the next command, half out of his mind.

“Hunk,” There was a hand in his hair and they pulled up his head, forcing him to look at him. “What does the _Wolf_   want?” His hips twitched.

“You,” he didn’t even have to think about it, it felt obvious considering that he was inside of them, that _every_ part of him wanted this, even the most alien.

“Me?” It didn’t sounds like a question, it was framed more like a test, and something in him went very still when they tilted their head to the side to bear their neck, deliberate and slow. “Does it want to mark me up?”

He realized that his mouth had gone dry. “Yes.”

“Ask nicely.”

They _were_ _testing him_ but more importantly they were testing his _control_ , and Hunk grinned, smile overflowing with shaky delight when he realized that he was more than okay, he was still _him_ , and it spilled into his voice, into the air-- eager ecstatic delight that they were going to be _okay_.

“Please,” he said, and gasped a little when they squeezed down on his dick.

“Think you can multitask?” Pidge didn’t seem to want an answer because they were pulling his head down to their neck and something in Hunk just _clicked_ and he realized that they smelled like _home._

Hunk found some sense of rhythm, their body hot and tight and Pidge had lost their patience, bucking up and holding him down and chasing the electric high of _more._ They raised their hips to meet his thrusts, small strong hands holding his hair as he fucked them and bite gentle dark bruises up and down their neck and shoulder.

They were louder than normal, somehow, small noises that they tried to muffle somehow amplified, and it drove him higher, especially when he shifted to a different angle and they started to swear.

“You can’t come until I do, do you think you can do that for me puppy?”

Pidge groaned as he bit a particularly rough bruise into their shoulder, and Hunk kissed it apologetically, but he still had to make his point, his thrusts slowing down as he tried to make his mouth form words. “You’re _so mean_ , you know that?”

Pidge looked absolutely _delighted_  by that, mischief written all over their face and Hunk realized with growing dread he fell right into a trap.

Voice dripping in poisoned concern, Pidge pushed all his buttons all at once. “Do you want me to stop being mean?”

“...No,” They both knew that, but Hunk still felt a hot itch of embarrassment run down his spine, and argued that he was only being a _little_ pouty about the whole thing.

Pidge though, had a new plan and he could _feel_ it in his throat, they way they looked at him like they were gonna fucking _devour_ him.

They relaxed their legs, and untangled their hairs from his hair, nudging him to the side. “Come on, roll over.”

He pouted more but pulled out and got off of them, and realized that Pidge was still all energy, hardly waiting for him to lie down before they straddled him, and he let out a choked sound, grabbing their hips helplessly.

 

Pidge was grinning a little manically, and he should be concerned, because he definitely felt like his chest and arms had gotten shaggier and _why hadn’t he noticed that_ , but Pidge was still looking at him like he hung the moon instead of howled at it and he suddenly stopped thinking all together.

Pidge was sinking back down onto him, eyes closed and bitten lips red, and the left side of their neck and shoulder was _wrecked_ , scattered red and purple hickies standing out against their skin and Hunk _growled_ , a rumble that came from his chest that he didn’t even know he was capable of making. They just looked and felt and smelt _so goddamn good_ and they were _his._

“I love you,” he said. Pidge had taken a moment to adjust to the new angle, and when they opened their eyes and smiled he wanted to kiss them and never stop.

“I love you too,” they said, quietly, sincerely, and in the next second they broke it, rocking their hips back and forth in frustrating little movements. “I love the way you feel in me.”

_Fuck._

Pidge had found their words again and used them to their advantage as they started to ride him, stretching and moving to try and find the perfect angle, and he kept his hands on their thighs, knowing better than to buck his hips, no matter _how badly he wanted to._

“You're so good for me, letting me use you like this hm?” They sunk down and swore. “ _Fuck yes_ , that’s it.” They ground their hips down, and Hunk whined as they did it again, throwing his hands to the side to grip the sheets instead.

Pidge set the pace to be hard and fast, panting out teasing words in between broken fucked out sounds. “Do I look good?” They panted, one hand balanced on his chest, as the other came up to rub at their hickies. “So were so good, so gentle marking m up, even with your sharp teeth.”

_Sharp teeth?_ It must’ve been written all over his face but Pidge just laughed. “Come on puppy, you can fuck me again. I want you too, I’m so close already.”

Hunk sat up at that and kissed them, a little clumsy and a lot eager, hands pawing at their hips. He was gasping, stars behind his eyes and he dragged them back down to bed, grinding up into them in desperate thrusts.

“I love watching you fall apart in me, you want to come in me so badly don’t you? I bet the Wolf wants that too.” Hunk was a hundred layers deep into his head already and all he could do at this point was drag his teeth across their skin and meet their brutal pace because they were hot and wet and felt so fucking good and _he wanted to be good for them._

“Hunk,” Pidge’s voice broke on his name, and Hunk met their eyes and they were coming on his cock, nails digging into his shoulders and thighs shaking and _they just kept talking_ , breathless broken orders to _come for me puppy, I want you to come for me_ and Hunk _broke_ , fucking into them almost mindlessly, his orgasm crashing into him like a wave and he was _flying_ and shaking and gripping onto them like a lifeline.

He didn’t actually pass out per say, but he also wasn’t all together there for a couple minutes after that. He knew that Pidge was still in his lap, head on his chest, twitchy and shaky around him, and that the two of them were breathing together, somehow holding hands.

“Coming back to me?” Pidge asked when he stirred, and he snorted a laugh when they sat up and unceremoniously flopped to the side, flinging their arm in the direction of the hand towel. He shrugged when they looked back at them, still foggy and reluctant to leave the head-space he was in.

He did shift to his side, moving in their direction, and when he took the offered hand towel he paused. He stared at the sweeping brown hair covering his hand. _Fur,_ his mind helpfully supplied, and Pidge was suddenly there, gently taking the towel from him and doing the cleanup instead, and before he could think too hard he had an armful of Pidge again.

“Pidge?” His voice was small when he used it, and focused on them, panic settling into the back of his mind like a stretched out rubber band. “How do I get it to go away?”

“Breathe with me,” they said firmly, after a heartbeat. “Lie down and cuddle with me. If it doesn’t go away when your heartbeat settles down then we’ll read the book they gave us okay?”

“I…” Hunk took a shaky breath. “Can we read the thing now?”

“Do you want me to read it while you rest your head on my lap?”

Hunk narrowed his eyes. Pidge _knew_ how tempting that was because it automatically meant that they would pet his hair and that he would still calm down at the same time. The decision was easy. “Okay.”

Hunk found a side of the bed that wasn’t sweaty and crawled under the covers while Pidge grabbed the binder from the hallway. They settled in together, Pidge resting against the headboard with a mountain of pillows, and Hunk curled up next to them, as they flipped through the pages, one hand in his hair.

Hunk closed his eyes and convinced himself, for just a moment, that they were back in his room on a school night, and that Pidge was studying for a test the next day, and that everything was back the way it was before.

Not everything though.

“I love you,” he said, easy as breathing. “And we’re alive. And we’re okay.”

Pidge ruffled his hair. “We’re okay. And we’re alive. And I love you too.”

Hunk opened his eyes, and looked at his hand, curled in front of his face, undoubtedly human. He reached up and felt his ears, and let out a relieved sigh.

Hunk closed his eyes again and let himself relax, knowing intrinsically, that whatever else happened, they would figure it out.

Together.

* * *

Bonus:

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My love letter to Hunk, that took nearly a year, and involved a lot of research about stargazing.
> 
> All the Incredible work was from the artist that I was paired with @Queerholdmycoffee who's on tumblr! The sfw art they drew can be found at https://queerholdmycoffee.tumblr.com/post/183927470577/yall-for-months-i-have-been-thirsting-in
> 
> Please check them out because I definitely wouldn't have been able to finished this without their enthusiasm and support.


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